O l i v e  G a r d e n  I s

N o t  R e q u i r e d

by Jessica Jones


We could stay in,
eat oodles of noodles for days.
I want to be your company,
The one you rent flicks with
and “cook” up Chinese take-in for
all while watching Hawkeye capture Cora.


Let’s get lost.
Discover the past in a museum,
dissect Warhol’s soup,
build a fire by the river.


We could share,
be it Green Apple Jones Soda or lemonade with strawberries,
conversing of pink elephants and purple mice
while gnawing on Peanut MM’s.


Your butt may be lucky because it was blessed by a leprechaun,
but your secrets lie with me
(though I’d never dream of sharing) and the smell of Aero cologne and old-people knees fills the air.


With as much as you care to tell me
I should have told you sooner,
been able to formulate into words
what I was feeling for you.


I’d listen to dumb jokes and watch dances to Beyonce ‘til the sun wakes.
Subsequently, laying my head upon your shoulder, signaling my comfort.
I may argue when you call me cute in a serious moment
but only to have you grab me by the hips afterwards.
Then, I’d sit on top just to please you,
Let me be awkward with you, just you.