First poem of my next book "Hearing Myself"

"No one paints in green. Everything is orange."

-Pizarnik

i

Pizarnik’s orange began when the world began,

When the sky appeared

And the ground and the water;

Only in 1936 she was born,

Only sometime in the 1970’s did she realize this;

Only in 1999 I was born to see

That orange right away

And become very afraid

Alejandra, you truly did frighten me,

I could not see but

Orange and I wanted to know how to be green so bad,

And I assume so did you,

But darling dear, orange so we are,

We are common folk oh what a common heart

Devilish and scornful and bitter when they try it,

But oh what a transparent mind you have

What a nuclear mind I have, to dare and dare

Them! Yet orange hunts haunts curls up my heart.

To trespass and see more than they bargain for,

To say what we paid to say,

And we say what it truly is, not a green sight,

An unquiet color,

To die, to die, to die for.

You couldn’t and “I can’t stop the drama”

It is what history is made of,

If they can stop it…why are they bitter?

And it is no wonder I am dramatic,

It is all falling to bits, it is all born out of the beast,

It is all exhaustingly painful.

And for we are orange as well,

We live with a heart-shaped bullet

But to be faithful to it and ourselves

And say it as it is,

BLOODY ORANGE.

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"Hearing Myself" will come out soon!