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von Ollella

I peeled off a layer
Confronted with another
Behind it was a story
Often told by my mother

When she was a little babe
Barely knew to talk
She sang all day and all night long
Screamed at four o′clock

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I peeled off the skin
Of pungent heads of garlic
My uncle used to eat them raw
He found it so cathartic


The smell would seep through his sweat
From immigrating west
Tomatoes, parmigiano
Olive oil through a press

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I peeled off the Shoulds
The Ought Tos, the Musts
It wasn't always pretty
It drew a little puss

Those layers kept me warm
Now piled on the floor
Here I am, on my feet
Walking out the goddamn door

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