Saturday, May 11, 2013
L. Edgar Otto 11 May, 2013
Where rainbows never end and we cannot reach in the lonely why is the sky blue
Doubled they make magenta, not on the spectrum as in the colors of love always open, every spun that ends in ultraviolet death when all flesh is one
My eyes flicker to the trance and dance vertical or horizontal the old Magnabox TV
Clarebell then Captain Kangaroo with pockets, Mr. Rogers and his sweater
I tweak the tint and color knobs but cannot decide if Barney dinosaur
is pinkish or more purple somewhere between roses red and violets blue
but the old screen was still cosmic latte and not blackboard black
So in the fairy tales we revisit with the children, time's flight to the darker red, try convince them there is no Doppler shift, monsters under beds or falling in our dreams no ground or net save what of thought light holds onto, so more intense in our quest than dreams, the starlight.
'Child, we could play Robin Hood hiding in the witches wood
arrows, staff a holy rood and rainbows after floods
Blacktors are very, very black. Blacktors give a heart attack
blacktors are very, very mean, they are infra-green. '
* * * * *
The last song I made while I carried my young boys thru a patch of woods from our "gingerbread" farmhouse to the country store on the highway... The called it the witches woods, and were afraid of Blactors which I later found out was what they called Black Tractors always busy in the cow pasture next door.