Of Olivers

'Please sir, can I have some more', That twist of fate, leaving me hungry, still unsatisfied with empty bowl, and an aching, to be nourished- full bellied and belonging to a generous portion of love, served warmed, and plenty... I was young, tied to the oversized hand of my father... As a reward for a courageous trip To the maniacal dentist, He bought me my very first LP album... 'Oliver'... And his Good Morning Starshine became my anthem Which I sang, with swollen gums... He was a neighborhood nobody 'Til he walked me home, one winter night Passed the boarded up strip mall, through the tangled frozen field, 'Round the broken streetlight corner... dropping me like a well carried parcel, 'Special Delivery' on my parent's porch... Thereafter, was someone, I'd never forget... Oliver... Yet another, of same title, Stoked the firey flames Of conspiracy and controversy, with a Hollywood heaping ladle, spoonfed me strategized stories tempting me, to theorize what I knew to be true... Seeding my mind's meadow with a curiosity for endless questionable debate Instructing me to look beyond.... A collection of Olivers... Kept in cardboard boxes marked 'Memories' And like that old record, Sometimes taken out... And dusted off....