the last poem of 2017 (20171231)

the non-existant color pink
for instance

[take it for instant coffee for all i care]

no wavelength in the spectrum of light
it should fit between red and violet
like a surprise baby in a family photo

but nothing fits between them
red and violet refuse to circle back like we do
and do not hang in the sky like
a ocd rainbow sprinkle donut
a waxed and bleached asshole
a my little pony ouroboros

no color for strawberry ice cream
for lips puckering for a kiss
for sticky drooling fondant in a cherry cordial
for the glistening underside of the tongue
for slowly stiffening areola
for wet thigh dripping mysteries

pink is just a space between
the brain filling in gaps
a gap itself
thrumming without other colors
to harmonize with
a good and plenty rattle
in an almost empty box
in a theater abandoned
by an audience who wanders around
at dusk and wonders
what color the sky is