Well I’m so white,
when the lights go out, I glow in the dark.
So white, when I wear white clothes
all you see
are the stripes on my socks.
as the sun’s bare rays—iron-heavy
White as the grass that’s decomposed,
by a leaf pile.
Well I’m so black
when I walk at night
I absorb all the light of the stars.
So black—I can’t drink milk, sing
drive a white car.
as a vinyl record—issuing song,
Black—as the ocean’s
depths, where fish swerve: translucent,