by Doug Janicke
Having a jaundiced, untrained eye
exasperates my artist friends
pioneers and connoisseurs
creating the visual faith they defend.
There are only three colors I contend:
a primary trinity complete
any others are deviant, indecent intermingling
despoiling the pure and sacrificial meat
chartreuse, periwinkle, fuchsia,
mauve, desert rose
by other names still the same
redyellowblue
as any kindergartner knows
But they swear
there is a spectrum of shades
a gradation of tones
exotic, unknown.
If this effusion exists,
why has white reigned supreme
the extreme epitome
of holy esteem?
For in nuance and flair,
black incorporates all:
every color and care
of the grace and the fall.
So how can we confuse
and abuse such a flourish?
Perhaps only the color-blind
notice or know this.