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Flowers at the Walls
(listen here)T
he blue of the Kasbah’s dissenting
Red is deceit
White is my word too filthifying
Green the color of religion
Yellow is my Van Gogh yellow
The blue of the sky is my blood
Pink is the smell of petroleum
The faun is what fits me like a glove
The orange - an oriental cliché
And also purple too
I am to Africa as green is to mint
Brown a color adjacent to black in the darkfield of my sight
To black in the darkfield of my rhymes.
How full I am of colors, like my brothers at the wall, doling out
We are the flowers at the walls