the grapevine

I hear things
on the grapevine, the whispers,
the gossip
the dirt.
I hear
what's going on and am glad
i'm no longer
a part of that
conversation.
there isn't enough soap
and hot water in the world
to be cleansed from
all that noise going into
my mind.
I take out
my scissors and clip
the vine.
I pour
some weed killer on it,
some gasoline too
and throw down a match.
I no longer need or
want to know
what's being said or
done.
i'm done with that toxic
vine.