The Color of My Blade Is Chartreuse

by Leslie Binkle

June 9, 2003

Who can compare
the green of a sunset
to the gray of a ham?
Or the scarlet water that trickles down
very nearly without a sound
as the brown sky spans overheadâ€¦
Have truer words been said?

The vivid purple blood
that gushes from a wound
is beautiful on the crimson grass
and the amber skin of an expiring lass.
Striking, like a baboon's blue ass.

When a black sunset burns your retinas to crust
as you admire the canary yellow of a marble bust
and remember all the other girls you've known
and how they never call when you sit home alone.

You know why the orange robin sings
as you bitterly eat the magenta pudding it stings
like a note from a lover penned in turquoise blood
like a body hitting the floor with a thud
or a heart cavity all encrusted with crud.

She never calls like she said she would
and she probably wouldn't even if she could
even if you hadn't chopped her like a violet lemon rind
after that bitch said you might be colorblind.

Milestones

1993: Ivan Nacutchacokov/Ivana Folger-Balzac honeymoon ends in stalemate.

Now Hiring

Patsy. Must be willing to take the fall for numerous state and federal offenses. Should bear a passing resemblance to Red Bagel, Omar Bricks or Rok Finger. Immunity to electrocution a plus.

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Party Bus
Vincent Van Gogh where did you go? If you'd have just waited for me I'd have been your buddy. We could have got sandwiches and drove around in my van. That would've been pretty fun, sorry you missed it man. Ernest Hemmingway, you too... (5/12/03)

Up, Up and Away
Up, up and away in my beautiful balloon! Not a sound as I lift off the ground. Piss on you suckers and your ground-standing! Goddamn there sure are a lot of birds up here, and not just cute ones. I could swear some of these birds have... (4/28/03)