(An exercise)

Life from the perspective of a black olive

Tuck yourself away in a small, circular room with 10 of your closest friends, and that one strange great-aunt. And stay there. Stationary. For years. Four years.

It is dark and you never see the light of day.

Then, you feel the   t
                                       i
                                          l
                                             t
and you know that one day you will

Oh! The excitement! The joy! It's been hard to know what you look like. You just know that You Are.

But soon you will know. Are you adorable and attractive? Is it terrible and frightening?!
Am you as suave as a classy green olive?
(I, Mr. Olive, just made my first rhyme).

The turn. The light. A beautiful face, because it is a mom's face. A little boy. He picks up my sister and puts her on his little finger. Cousin, cousin, me, brother. He makes us dance.

I know what's coming. I wish I could have a little more time to spend on a plate in the world, but I am happy to bring the boy joy, even though it comes with my expiration.

I know it is all part of the life of a black olive.

(Skidmore dining hall, 2007. Black olive day. I had to entertain myself somehow)