Blue Takes Over

by Emily Hunt

blue takes over
green gives us the lush
yellow lies down
violet is so godly
chartreuse kills me
white is a zero
another fleck in the corner
taupe lives in fear
lilac has no family
bronze dreads the morning
sapphire circles mars
crimson seldom appears
slate is an allegory
purple’s just a theory
coral absorbs the animals
fuchsia pushes past us
manila is pathetic
rose wants maroon
it isn’t easy being beige
twisting pure and dry
through everything good
puce lives underground
orange left the rainbow
mauve is lost again
and like blue gazes
black touches black
pink gets bored
cyan is cold
sinking in the sea
magenta changes lives
indigo takes forever
white keeps its distance
open in the sliding light
cerulean lives through blue
the world is drenched in lavender
speaking through the throat
extravagant and frantic
emerald is a heartbreaker
imagine you are gray
as it eats through
azure, indigo is warm
medium snow pretty
and alien in quality
platinum is lusty
and flits generously around
struck by sienna
cadmium is magnetic
jade is a winner
viridian is impressive
plum broods with mustard
burgundy is permanent
celadon can’t take it anymore
pistachio wants to die today
sage has no shadow
in the trashcan of the bathroom by the bog
carmine was briefly happy
emerging in great leaves
silver grieves vividly
on roofs as dust
comes and goes
unchecked like a huge
sweeping joy and steel
is frozen as noises
ivory clenches
low, so feeble
sepia is alluring
charcoal is silent
gold has many allies
fluorescents found the shoreline
navy is permanent
gray is alive today
floating in the clouds
brown married green again
dark cornflower can’t be explained



by Emily Hunt

this one is deep blue
drag the tube, the rug pulls back
the dusty body nudges and rolls
      suck up flea eggs under a paper sign
      suck up flea eggs under a stained light
let the house get big
pull it across
push it against the grain
along the grain
over the veins of cloth petals
opening under the dust
the attachment falls off and the sound continues
it sits on its side like the leg of dead time
this one is red with thick looping lines
fat seeds
flat story of work
get to the life in the tassels
the fine reeds of the rocker
the grooves in the phone
valleys of the wide mossy chair
cold on the smooth flecked tiles
lead the low end around
hit the hip
suck up more temporary air
move the vast table to the done room
lift one side and shift it
the other
lift one side and shift it
the other
push it over the border
the chairs into each other
stand on the center of the naked dense one
can they cling to the socks
in the hair, cupboards
the tin bell on the sill
the pair of green dolphins
snaking around the globby dish
hide the bread, the two cups
lift the bagged clothes far away
in ribbony paths from the house
for the dripping trees
splat on the snowy garbage plastic
let the loads multiply
run water into the base of the bomb
a sip to the line
set it where the wood shows through the creamy paint
open the swollen drawers
let one fall
scan the room to see what it might reach
what places it could miss
squeeze through with the bags
come back
close the door, the doors, lock the last door
back the borrowed gray car over the poppies and weeds
the spotted shed feathers of birds
dark soil where the hose washed out the liquid the trash left

Emily Hunt Author PhotoEmily Hunt’s first book “Dark Green” was published by The Song Cave in 2015. Poems of hers can be found in the PEN Poetry Series, “The Iowa Review,” “The Volta,” “TYPO,” “jubilat,” and many other journals. She posts links to new work at

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