Songs and Lyrics
Essays from the vein
A Sad Comprehensive List of Those Things That Are Colored Nothing
8 Aug 2005
These are colored nothing,
Not to say that they reflect no light,
like a comfy black T-shirt, midnight sky, the inside of your eyelids.
Physics is out the picture, if it were ever in.
They reflect nothing;
some call This home.
Worn-in jeans and mirrors, when looked at at at its side,
Rain Clouds and the road, bisected by yellow
Rivers running and sand dunes
Teardrops and spilled seed.
A lone sock, fallen out of the dryer without its mate
and a shirt dropped from the washer onto the laundry room floor.
The last diary page and scratches from an empty pen.
A bulimic's fingernail and other various scartissue.
The eyes of a boy watching a girl
watching her boyfriend.
And the menu of the girl's friend who has to eat out alone.
Your palm cupping the asprin
and the stained botton of the now-empty coffee mug
A broken heart and a broken Man
Scuffs on your shoes and
scratches on your glasses.
The bags sitting under an insomniacs' Eyes
and four strands of grey on a head of black.
Bones, anonymous, in a museum
and a stretched out roll of film.
I asked, but no one else thinks
this list should continue.
It does, though.
I don't like riddles, not like this.
Nothing, here, is the color of alone
And also don't think things like
these are unique. Nothing is
It's a question of perspective
of where you sit.