Green

Gwendolyn Brooks said it’s my color, and she says it's yours too. It's Putnam Ave’s color, on a Friday. Wow. Green as a motherfucker. It’s crazy how good a simple green can make you feel so much better. I saw green so bright, I ate that green. Realized then my fuckin toothbrush is green. And the toothpaste tastes green, but not the way my green greens taste. Like in the ice cream way, you know the one that’s kinda green, kinda blue. 

And, my god, blue. I can go on and on about her. That lesbian movie was right. Blue is a warm hug. Blue is my brother’s room 20 years ago. Ever go into the Sophie's bathroom, and suddenly you’re actually at the MoMA looking at the motherfucking Yves Klein. Staring dead in its eyes, but they’re really your eyes because that glass is so motherfucking clean. Startling I tell you. And that bud you smoked before, that’s right, green, a wet green.

You exit the bathroom, clean off the white, and the Bar’s red light mixes with that beautiful blue painted brick, and BOOM! Elderberry. Welch’s juice stains. A Priest wears it to remind you of humility. You start thinking about purple. Oh and don’t get me started about the color purple or I’ll cry. Purple is my feelings. 

Purple is the color of blue at sunset, which I hear is getting earlier these days.