With apologies to Albert Camus:

Mother lied yesterday.
I didn’t know that she lied:
Remembered with a shock childhood
Injunctions enforced
With the buckle on the end
Of a leather strap tearing
The flesh on my four year old
Back
And more
Again and again as we grew
Crippling me so I could never so much as bend
The truth even
At the tip
Without a tell tale tearful twitch
Of the upper lip.

“If there’s one thing I can’t abide” she would hiss
out at me
“it’s a liar; a liar
a liar… see.

And now she lied and boasted that she lied: exulted
In a lifetime of evasive
Lies
And whereas one could often
Ask of one
Who lied
Whether anything they say
Could be true
In this case she had been
‘busted’ and was henceforth brash and brazen and
boldly through and through.

So mother lied yesterday
And I do not have to be uncertain about it
Albert
Because she admitted publically
that it was true.

!NiK[2011]