Blue

There's a shade of blue

I call "Wild Blue"

that makes me think of France

or Kansas

depending on how pretentious I'm feeling

or how much I've been thinking about wine

"Cornflower" they'd call it

in men's shirt catalogs

"Cerulean" to poets and

fashion-forward writers of couture copy

I guess because it's hard to get people

to break off an extra $20 for "Yonder"

It's free in November

Sky

There's a shade of blue

I call "Sweet-Jesus"

that makes me think of dancing in biker bars

hands cupped on the denim-clad curves

of a big-boned gal

hanging on for dear life

eye to eye, knee to thigh

grinding her gears

She sucks breath through clenched teeth

as my fingers find and linger on

the thin spot

that makes her think of past mistakes

and ones she'd like to make again

Indigo

There's a shade of blue

I call "Lucille"

that makes me think of Kansas City,

New Orleans, Memphis, St. Louis, or Chicago

digging glassy-eyed Buddhas with their mad, mad mudras

using horns and crying guitars

to rip the hearts out of suckers like me

who pay for the privilege

of having the surgery performed by professionals

instead of the dull knives of the back-alley butchers

back home

Cobalt