Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

That is the problem with the young and educated of today. They talk a lot and they claim to know a lot but really they know nothing at all.  We can talk all day about the bright futures we have ahead of us, the futures generously donated to us by our parents, who have loved us and provided for us since we were babies.  Yet inside we are the same feeble, irrational creatures as we were in the womb.  We think we can get away with anything by choking up a little tear in the eye, by refusing to pick up our toys and toils after we’re done with them, by saving money for an Irish cream coffee instead of putting it aside to pay back for the debt of our selfishness.  We are babies, wrapped in the disguise of immaculate men and women.  We are babies, with translucent skin and a hunger for the primitive needs, of leisure and pleasure and enough vodka to fill an aquarium.  We are more childish than we were at thirteen, for we were straddling between inn

From the time you know how to blink You are branded like a milking cow It's the reason you are here now But do you ever stop to think While you are dabbing blush on your brow And you are scraping your legs into shreds And you are perming your locks 'til they're dead Why you are doing this at all? Because when you're born you become a slave To the thing that's between your legs You're a sweet pie if it's concave And if it's hanging, then you're brave And if it's slanted then you're nothing You are ridiculed to your grave Here is a bold proposition that I offer to you What if you should want to be both? If you wish, I allow you to Snuggle with boys when you're blue And wear black heavy soled shoes You may chew grass and drink booze And bathe in pink salts if you choose Don't be swayed by the notion That you should be affixed to a box With your legs cramped to your chest You're not a boy or a girl or a fr