Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Olives

As far as I’m concerned
This has nothing to do
With love, or madness;
Or the tall man
Staring at me
From behind
smelling like olives
and my twisted dream
when I was a child-

Childhood is a swift perception
of how to lie and survive.
Dealing with my sins now,
I’m happily entombed
in my deadly boredom
and my daily lies.

But the tall man
Shall take his olives someplace else
I am done with shiny olives
And betraying vodka.