This is Olympia.

I’ve been laying in bed, counting the hours as if they were minutes. I went to see someone about a job the other day and they fired me before I began. Said I was too old, too young and too fat. I am short, fat and have a limp. Remember me this way and not some romanticized nonsense you poets like to. Don’t write me in iambic pentameter or haiku. I deserve free verse god damnit.

Anyways, my coffees gone cold and I’m working backwards again. What I am trying to say is that I meant it when I told you that the virgin mary took mine, sweet jesus watching the bastard. He saved my soul alright, saved it for himself.

We sat watching the sun set and an old transistor radio sang French accordion music and we waltz gently in the breeze, the wine going to our hearts and heads.

We woke the next morning ashamed and embarrassed. I looked at the upside spoon and laughed and you asked why and I couldn’t answer. It seemed funny a moment ago.