They didn't make black flowers,
so I bought a palette,
and I learned how to water[color] flowers
They seemed to think it was important to have clarity,
and so they parted the bundling clouds,
and they taught us what was wrong and what was blue
They made no room for sadness,
and told us that we needed to keep our hands inside the cart
Didn't they know it took more effort to draw these lines?
Why sure they did,
what with their black permanent markers,
and their abilities to read between them to predict [concoct] tragedy
I liked to sit here and count the smudges,
and all the failed parallelograms they fashioned,
with the rumbling thunder of subscription up above
manufactured happiness, huh? I get it. It's like a grown up resenting his or her childhood due to overprotection and lack of exposure. Add it to your pile of nostalgic themes. This one felt a little less cohesive, but definitely has that trademark cynicism of yours! hhaah. My favorite stanza:
ReplyDeleteThey seemed to think it was important to have clarity,
and so they parted the bundling clouds,
and they taught us what was wrong and what was blue
I love how and "blue" takes the place of "right". The reason I like this is because it's as if the author is prepping his or her own version of the truth as well, essentially mimicking what their forebears did to them. There is something cyclical about this concept which whether intentional or not, works quite well.
I like the line about water (color)... Good imagery.
ReplyDeleteBlack is the color of my true love's hair but in flowers I would prefer more vibrancy. Sadness should be banished but fortunately id makes happiness that much better in comparison .
ReplyDelete