A Blue Kite, or Yellow
Once, and a big fat why
will pass before I am no longer my
allergic me. I am the blue body, dyed
the hue of our crummy old couch cry-
ing to be replaced. I already tried
on the theory “The Normalcy of Body Types”
and I cover it neatly with air-dried
dress and socks not made with the same tired
blue light. I reach, covering my eyes,
to touch the kite meant to fly no higher
than the roof too gray to be the sky.
2003
Brooke, cool poem. So enigmatic. I read it several times and it seems like it could have several meanings. Am I misreading it if I think one meaning is a commentary on body image, how often we’re not happy with our physical appearance?
Yes, very much about bodies–something useful but with flaws and limitations, things that make us discontented with them–about being normal but about flying too.
I am the blue body, dyed the hue of our crummy old couch crying to be replaced.
This reminds me of my post-partum body. All of the sudden, I had this stretched out body that was lumpy and soft (much like the old couch in my living room).
Thanks for sharing