More Galore!

Sue had gone to school for Cosmetology.

They wouldn’t let her in the School for Arts.

She loved to mix and match her colors randomly.

The School for Arts said you were not supposed

to juxtapose your colors as if you were

spewing them around involuntarily like farts.

.

Consult the Color Wheel, they chastised her,

for what to do with hue. “Phoo on you,”

Sue said and just like that she won the lottery.

Now she had the money, she could do with hues

what she had all along proposed to do: invite them

to a party. Stain and spraygun, brush and stencil,

.

Jackson-Pollock-drip with any color in the Paint

Department on each surface, large or small,

of wall and hall and floor and corner of the space.

Strip the beige, ecru and prissy blue left by whatever

team of decorators had afflicted her beleaguered
lottery-acquired Manse with taste. Although 

.

she can’t get anyone who’s anyone to come for

dinner to the place, she knows she is the winner,

sitting in her Motley Mongrel Rainbow Rooms,

coaxing her adopted daughter Lou out of whatever

glooms seem to affix themselves like viruses

to people who are “rich”, telephoning  I.H.O.P.

.

to deliver portions of their Cupcake Pancakes, heavy

on the colored sprinkles, please. “You can fairly

hear the angels’ bells up in the sky, tinkling down

on you. Adds a pretty color too,” says Sue.

She’s on the spree I’d be if I had won the lottery.

More galore! she says is always the solution. I agree.

.