Olive

I will not rhyme,
speak in time
or indulge in verse
iambic, elegy or set
ode, quatrain or couplet
rather my intentions
are quite the reverse-

Oh, bugger.
Hold on, let me start again.

I will not rhyme
I will not sing
But rather
leave words free as falling ink
to swim or si-

No, you bastard.
What kind of sentence is that, anyway?
"words free as falling ink" indeed
Nonsense
arbitrary
metaphor
-absurd-
Laughter for a good joke,
but this one isn't funny

You see,
this is why I never fit
with the kin
the crowd
the choir who'd sing
melodies laced with simile
like this, like that, as in
(careful)
and there was I
alight with indignant imagination
to hope, to think-
perhaps we needn't mince words
with syrup and silk
perhaps we could just say things
as they are.
No?

The Choir
The Crowd
The Blank
So loud
they did not quite agree
You heard me flee, no doubt
tell of my footsteps from before

They screamed
I ran
some mean men followed
all badges, brows and pride
Uniforms in navy blue
Highlights all tan brown
muskets cocked
buttons gold-
law for coin
police for barter

They didn't really want me dead
just gone
Away to the fringe
where else?
This land
is nothing but edge
and ash

White ash
Grey ash
occasionally beige ash
sweeping at my feet
tread and trail; my tracks
stretching back forever
hills and cliffs and mountains high
...well, mountains medium
what do you want from me?
Everything looks flat
And by the way, thanks for asking, it's been a while since I've eaten.

There's a sheep
on my tail
don't know where it came from
or why
it follows me, I suppose
'cause I move and breathe
and sometimes hum
and, well, you know what they say
about wandering rams...
What's that?
You don't
Oh
Well... neither do I
Empty implications
force of habit
sorry.

Anyway.
The sheep.
"Go away!"
It's won't- it merely bleats
(strange language, could be a poet)
I'm tempted to cut it down,
just for something to devour- but no
poor thing, looks so thin and ragged
fluffy fur all black and brown
dewy eyes so big and round
I won't kill it- I've too much guilt
I'll wait till it starves
to pick the body clean

I have a baby knife somewhere
down next to the dominoes
held within the cavernous pockets of this little frock coat
Olive in colour
-like the name I don't have-
a little battered
-like the skin I hardly wear-
I need to think positive
draw a smile across my face
Literally
I'm from the Choir of Blank Verse
we don't have expressions
just words in their place
but I draw mine on
in black chalk
and blue ink
smile, never frown
wish art was my gift
one of these days
I must buy rouge

I'll wander forever
in varying states of delirium
hunger
slash thirst
intermittently answered
fall in odd rivers
wrestle dry thickets
That sheep's still behind
suppose I'm stuck with it
A ram or a goat?
Something else, maybe?
I'd go back and check,
no
-Might scare it away.

Even the Angels won't touch me
they glare in pity
eyes stretched over dunes
from boxes and barges
craters and crates
gawp at the native
Come look at me!
I'm here till Tuesday!
Bloody immigrants.

Little else 'round here
just myths and legends
-and I'm trying to be credulous
Oh look, rocks are falling at my feet
down
down
down
an apothecary of different darknesses below
the cliff goes on forever
and the other side is far beyond my sight
this is the edge
the brink
(rushing water somewhere very far away)
the valley

Turn back
and walk another shade
or slip
and take my chances down below?

Long way down
Long way back

Hmm.
The sheep's at my side...
...could cushion my fall...
....no, that would be cruel

The dominoes
my secret reserve
I sit on the dirt
stretch out and sigh
the sun is still high in the-
-atmospheric vista-
I have time for a game
or possibly two

If I win
I go on
If I lose
I go down

No, I don't play against myself
that's ludicrous, you fool
I call over the sheep
-lamb, goat, ram, fluffy-bouncy-thing-
Say hello
(Actually, for a starving wretch, it's inordinately round)
tell it to sit down
(it doesn't)
teaching it the rules may take some time
hey, I have forever
and no purpose at all

Madness? Not me.
I'm just very, very sane
that's the problem
too sane to sing
what's a verse to do?