Three Poems by Olin Wish



NICE THINGS


We want nice things

And will give our lives

Gladly for them


An inch at a time

A day at a time


In service of others – owners

Those we barely know

Who will never know us


Never – not an inch or a day


They will never know

These things we do

Hoping to one day

Be like them


Never hear the private pep talks

In the mirror before the

Day has even started


Asking, goading


What is it worth to you


Another day

Another inch

Another foot in the grave


In pursuit of nice things





GONE OR COMPLETELY ERASED


All the actors in it are gone

Or completely erased


That time when I was

Too dumb to realize

How good it was


Poorer than I’ve ever been

And richer than I am now


Love is free

And so is friendship


Maybe that’s what they

Meant about the best things


Happens all the time

To the insignificant fools

Who don’t deserve it


Stand there, years later

With their hand out

Remembering how it was


When that shadowy, dark-haired

Cur slinks past


Disappears across the railroad

Tracks and with it, youth

And all the actors who are gone

Or completely erased





THEY TOO OPT OUT


Plenty people have died

Under the watchful eye

Of a crucifix


God didn’t care then

So stop asking now


Your hunt and peck methodology

I’ve seen before

In my garden

In my garage –


A field mouse who has lost all fear

Of man makes a nest in a plastic shopping bag


The way those claws

Wordlessly knit – Yes, I’ve seen and

Heard your kind before


They too gave a shit


Kept a junk drawer full of instruction

Manuals to outdated appliances

They haven’t owned in ten years


They too opted for grape juice whenever possible

Over the real article


They too sighed the dust off the mouse turds

In the attic and breathed deep


They too opt out


And please don’t squeal when

The little nameless scurry out

Between bare feet


Dragging toothpicks they intend

To die upon –


Read me this bedtime story in broad daylight

And laugh with me into unconsciousness


Sort nuts from bolts

And put in empty prescription bottles and wait and say thank you





These poems were written under the pseudonym Olin Wish. Olin Wish wants a book deal real bad. He holds a day job that puts him in close proximity to the criminally insane instead. It might be rubbing off on him. Who knows? His favorite hobbies include, comic books, x-ray vision, and trying to avoid a violent stabbing death. Olin currently resides in West Virginia, but travels around a lot. He has an ex-wife and three children. So basically, he's living his best life. Aside from being lost in the woods, Olin is a regular contributor to Drunk Monkeys Literary Journal, Kleft Jaw, and Unfading Daydream, among others.

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