I’ll Do It Myself
SILVER HONS, JULY 14, 1997
I did not ever want to color
carefully inside the printed lines,
when coloring where another
has done the drawing that defines
a man, the sky, or a flower.
Painting only blue sky shows no flair.
When watching a hurricane defuse,
I’ve seen the air gold as a pear.
Where is the artist’s freedom to choose,
If only green goes here, red there?
I’ve heard few dogs that parade are beige
in the Mardi-Gras Barkus march.
Some add jello, so they’re blue as sage,
or if they prefer, summer-green larch.
I liked a beige. To me he was the rage.
Children who are forced to draw in
lines and eat what’s on their dinner plate
will never grow to be either thin
or have the confidence to create
without experiencing chagrin.
They need to draw and eat with freedom,
choose for themselves, within reason. They
may be riders in a rocket some-
day outside our galaxy, far away,
know other thinkers and spectrums.