Thursday, January 23, 2014

Blanco

… white as a slab of pork,
white as scuffed and angry cement,
a dust rag moist with lemon oil.
White as a dirty hand.

Nada es muy blanco.

White as pink gray yellow blue.
White as you.
In other words: not white at all.
(Nada es muy blanco.)

The gall
to call him from the depths of night
by what he is not: white.
They call them what they are not, too:
all of them, they sort them out
like beans in bins,
recycling tins,
by more or less grotesque colors,
trash here,
cans there,
garbage over there.

Bitcoin martinet,
petty aristocrat,
tyrant of the file folder,
form grid, matrix,
the broken glass in the yoga mat,
bureaucrat –
you know exactly what I mean.

Burn them in hell,

or call them by their names.

Nada es muy blanco.

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