xxx

When the colors betray themselves

The colors tighten their uniforms

but talk behind my back of mutiny

apparently blue refuses to be tacked to the sea

Because the sea is synonymous with freedom,

And above that red and orange argue amongst themselves

for the sunset

Green is for spring and rebirth, and money, and the hate each other

Now look at your fingernails

they might as well be seagull bones

that thing that used to run after everything

Like the birds of our eyes

picking at the flowers for the skin they are in

And all the flags are bastard children

of dead fathers who fought for the idea

that colors betrayed.

A ball of red yarn whose string we have been following for years

is being batted at by a cat at the end of it

The ripple throws up its' arms, robbed of its' silver

by the transparency of the river

to pay for the divorce of it and its' bottoms

And on the bottom the blacks like minor keys

are free on eight octaves to sing the blues

I understand because I am white

and just another color

Even the keyhole wants a raise to continue to support your  flimsy perception.