Vol 8, Num 8 :: 2009.04.10 — 2009.04.24
Editor’s note: The following poem was inspired by an installation piece by Dayton Castleman at Eastern State Penitentiary. The above photo of the installation was taken by L.L. Barkat.
Scarlet is,
man, scarlet is
fever,
fever and sins
against
snow. Scarlet
is, man,
scarlet is
single stray drop
to ruin a
queen’s perfectly
good embroidery,
don’t you know,
scarlet is,
man, scarlet is
frankly
he doesn’t give
a damn.
Man, put scarlet
in my hands
so I can throw
it out windows
of Jericho, put
scarlet-pierced
palms in
hidden pockets,
let it flow past
thighs and knee
become a trail
behind me. Man,
give me a bucket
of scarlet paint,
pipes and the
vision to see
escape routes,
openings, ways
to the sky, and
all the places
scarlet can,
must
be.
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