Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Dear Simon, I'm writing this letter to you because I miss you dearly. It seems like only yesterday we were swimming in the creek by the estate, and you commented how my skin glows so deliciously in the sun. But you left me, and that was your choice. Now I'm stranded in this massive villa all alone, with just my echoes as company. I won't dwell on this point too much and guilt you, for I know your abandonment must be weighing heavy on your heart. I'm also writing to tell you about my recent afflictions, as I have no one else who will listen. Roughly six months ago, I began to develop a case of insomnia. Normally my eyelids would flutter closed at no later than midnight, but recently I haven't been able to sleep until three or four o'clock in the morning. When I do manage to fall asleep, the quality of rest is abysmal, filled with short nightmares and night sweats. Laura, our maid, and Helga, the cook, don't sleep in the house, of course, for they have t...

With Valentine’s Day coming near It is the perfect time to confess my love To the most famous man of this great land Embodying a nation that’s both strong and free Yes, Rob Ford, I declare my love for thee Even when I try to forget about your smile It shows up on the front page of the paper Your face shiny and pink like rose marble My heart begins to sting with envy That you’re having a great life without me Oh how I wish that you could see I’d cross bridges and mountains and LRTs for you I’d bash all the protesters outside City Hall for you Just to make you notice me Together, we could have dinners at Steak Queen We could conquer the gravy train We could conquer the world Alas, my unrequited love taunts me Even though I know you have More than you can eat at home Will you still be my Valentine?

Dear Mother: Although it is difficult for me to imagine you as a messy haired twenty-something-year-old listening to Nirvana, it recently occurred to me that, before my existence, you had your own rockin’ life filled with studying and partying and embracing your days as an adult. Then you decided to have me, without knowing what I would turn out as- if I’d be a boy or a girl? (Both have their highs and lows). A dunce or a genius? (I’m somewhere in between the two, so I hope I didn’t disappoint you). I guess parenting is a tricky gamble and is arguably one of the hardest things to do in life. But I’m really grateful that you didn’t give up on me, even when I was doing annoying things, like refusing to eat my potatoes or drawing on the walls in marker.  In my preteen years, I’d get mad at you for not letting me use the computer or go out past nine because I thought you wanted to rob me of my freedom; in reality you were just disciplining me into becoming the well ...