She gave me a box of sixty four
But told me to color in the lines.
I colored inside the lines of the lazer-printed firetruck;
I colored it Forest Green
And Tickle Me Pink.
"Firetrucks are red."Gentle but stern.
Timidly, I took out my drawing of her,
Skin Purple Mountains Majesty.

Her apron was Cerulean,
But her frown Scarlet Red.
My tears were clear.
There was no color for tears
In the box of sixty four,
But all my firetrucks were colored Red,
All my drawings of her were Peach.
And her lips were always Scarlet Red.

we trampled on jewelry shops
in shoes of italian leather
we tore up people and places
justified
let other people clean up
the mess we had made

you diagnose colorblind
administering treatment
to the privileged whites

but fail to diagnose yourself

what goes up
must come down
and you found a way
to come down faster

You are first grade without the one two or three,
I needed you but you didn't need me.