Jacob Olsen

There was this rich creep
I was forced to live with at school
who would throw salmon
behind the curtains,
go out and get high
and laugh at something called The Game.

Well he was in a writing class of mine
and after taking too many mushrooms
he decided that he would write a short story
about murdering me
and then read it to the class.
The story involved somebody leaving
the dishwasher open
and though it wasn't clear
it was probably him,
nonetheless I was murdered in fiction
and Jacob forgot about it completely,
both in the story
and in real life.

The last time I saw him
he was stuffing his face
with warm Alaskan beer
from a broken beer bottle,
and all I could tell you now
is that I didn't care
about reminding him that the bottle was broken
or even learning later
about all the glass that ended up
in his waste of a stomach

because he wouldn't give me a fucking dollar for food
when i was working three jobs while my girlfriend was abroad
and fucking foreign men
all the while him, throwing salmon behind the curtains.
what a waste of fucking humanity.