She was a metaphor of rouge. Not only did she eat lots
of beets – “iron, you know” – but also felt like this
warm, creamy, beety mass: rouge. Rouge bra, rouge
stockings, rouge pubic hair, rouge curlers, rouge heart,
rouge lungs growing and deflating, rouge earlobes,
rouge soles – “pet me” – rouge milk, rouge Camaro, rouge
grass, rouge dogs, no rouge spiders, rouge smoky kiss
from rouge lips ...

– Johannes Beilharz (© 1981)

Posted for NaPoWriMo day 19. The task was “Pick a color – something you like, something important to you. Red, yellow, whatever. Now, write a poem that uses the color in every or nearly ever line: a hypnotic invocation of the color.” This made me immediately think of the above poem from way back when.

Made known to Writer's Island as usual. Three big cheers to Writer's Island for hosting NaPoWriMo.


Stan Ski said...

A celebration of rouge - can't get the word out of my head now!

SweetTalkingGuy said...

Dead good, everything but the 99 rouge balloons

Ron. said...

I red this several times. Good stuff.

flaubert said...

Rouge is such a pretty colour, love all the associations with it in this piece, iself.


lucychili said...

blush =)

Judy Roney said...

Cool rouge poem. I will have to look up the color now for sure. I like the way it sounds!