The Color of My Blade Is Chartreuse

by Leslie Binkle

June 9, 2003

Who can compare
the green of a sunset
to the gray of a ham?
Or the scarlet water that trickles down
very nearly without a sound
as the brown sky spans overheadâ€¦
Have truer words been said?

The vivid purple blood
that gushes from a wound
is beautiful on the crimson grass
and the amber skin of an expiring lass.
Striking, like a baboon's blue ass.

When a black sunset burns your retinas to crust
as you admire the canary yellow of a marble bust
and remember all the other girls you've known
and how they never call when you sit home alone.

You know why the orange robin sings
as you bitterly eat the magenta pudding it stings
like a note from a lover penned in turquoise blood
like a body hitting the floor with a thud
or a heart cavity all encrusted with crud.

She never calls like she said she would
and she probably wouldn't even if she could
even if you hadn't chopped her like a violet lemon rind
after that bitch said you might be colorblind.

Quote of the Day

“No poor bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. Unless we're talking Gandhi, but what fun is it taking a cudgel to the nuts for your country? None, that's how much.”

-Gorgeous George Spatten

Fortune 500 Cookie

Prepare for a fantastic journey of whimsy and wonder, and it's going to cost you $20â€”don't forget you can't touch her. Your keys are always in the last place you left them, so try looking at the bottom of Lake Chappaquiddick. What's up grandma's ass? What a bitch. When this particular problem comes along, literally whipping it will only result in jail time. Lucky skin blemishes: blackhead, pockmark, knife wound, stigmata.

Try again later.

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