Inside Out

Blur the foreground, sharpen the back

Grace its gentle shading

Admire the power of the sun, it’s leaking strands of white gold-

An eye can do that, too.

 

Strife becomes a tableau

Look at the melon hues they live in

Dusty and light-washed

Art of tragedy, you do no good.

 

A side order of statistics, to say we did

We take alien angles at your misery

Don’t move an inch, the look on your face

Feeds my children, takes me to galas

I meet walking dictionaries

With outrageous hats.

 

Drop unthinking blobs of reject colours-

Neon yellow, orange-red

How dare you!

But for a moment there

I nearly turned my pockets

Inside out.

The End

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