Red

if it wasn't for this poem, i think i'd be a sober poet.

 

Red reminds me of when I was in high school

And I’d break into my grandmother’s

Medicine Cabinet.

I could get 20 chalky pills

In my gullet before passing out.

The last thing I remember seeing

Was that one red dot

Before it all went black.

 

My Red plastic cup

With the edge slightly nibbled

Holds 3 parts rum and 1 part coke.

Believe it or not,

But there are some things a girl’s a*s

Can’t fix

No matter how tight her jeans.

 

There’s always the five finger band.

A flute player up front

Two trombones

A trumpet

And a tuba in the rear.

Switch it if you’re left handed.

Then give yourself a solo performance.

Let them play till the white notes

Turn Red.

 

I never fucked on my parents bed

When they were out of town.

That was reserved for the cool kids.

Mary would have been the one

If she would have let me.

But the time we came close

She stopped my hand

At her lacey Red bra

And the other at her white cotton panties

The ones holding back her auburn pubic hair.

 

Some of us prefer illusion.

Give me my yearbook pictures,

With autographs of people I can’t remember

And those I never knew

On the back of them.

Help me forget the other colors

Of the rainbow

And cut straight to Red.