#636 - my skin is no colour

28.ix.22

636

2.271

my skin is no colour

 

I come with a glass

telescopically too

or you might not see

 

open to snow white book unbruised

I don’t have to go anywhere

I pass without let or hindrance

 

no monarch need carry wad of cash

dieu et mon droit

blank minded

but it must be a kind of vellum I am

without the tattoo at all

 

sing, sing of it – so fair!

 

it’s as if I were carved from the ice

and I’m passing

penguin fronted

to the glass slipper ball

no one calls my skin

 

it is a thing as if come to life

 

others bend over to starve

I love an irony myself

 

how sticks and stone won’t

 

it’s funny how colourless skin

makes you blind

 

sing, sing of it – so fair!

 

a film through which the archive passes

crocodile thick at times

 

my skin

wise wonderful

is pure as the driven

 

(chorus of slaves

all at oars)

 

lily propelled

texture of canvas had at the sun

or a gentle breeze goes round the world

(the pure plume of exhaust)

 

sing, sing of it

 

you may not have noticed

my skin is a map

is a flag of for over all

stitched with best wishes

birthdays and christmas

 

believe on me

kneel and bless my cloud

 

if I miscegenate

still the deep ache of humanity’s mine

mine mine

it’s magic!

 

did you see me

at the cutlass fray?

did you promise me a land?

 

sing, sing of it – so milking!

so honey sweet

 

think of ghost writing

don’t say a thing

it’s our little secret

 

I’m obscure

I keep hidden

have no accent at all

 

there will be a statute of limitations

and so we pass these duties on

 

words are a pride point

entitle me to

pass through walls

 

and by way of a wand

(kiss this)

I float up through glass ceilings

 

my skin is a bag of invisible tricks

nothing humble if not

unimpeachable pride

 

you know that you would if you could

 

my privileges are parliamentary

as well as journalistic

I lead

and they must sniff me out

to be on the winning side

 

by the way I invented everything

God with me

and by the skin of your teeth

pearly, n’est-ce pas?

 

plan for the world

and for others as well!

 

invisible as…

what colour is a statue?

 

no, mustn’t say

wake with a head

heart ghost skin pale

 

a see-through me

as if not here

this is how deity is everywhere

 

vast archive of self

words lost to light

 

take up a harp when all’s done

my skin is no trouble

no, you needn’t thank me

my skin no colour

at all