Marcus Rothkowitz
for Holly Parotti

break through, break out,
go ’bout yur business

Rothko gives us doors,
many to choose from
to go through, to break through
to burst through

color like paper, bright
colors to crash into, to flash through
however hot the fire
however these flames raged

colors to keep us in or keep us out

open your mout’, breathe out
open your mout’
if you want an opening
to leave through

out of your mouth
like breath exhaled
and out of prison

without keys, without guard
containing you all your days
afraid to appear upon
the other side of a coin
all you had to do was flip it

want to know as well
the world upon the other side
of Rothko’s art

colors in large sheets
were these divides between
Russia and the U.S.A.
colored curtains, hung between
two homes

or did they, do they
separate hell from heaven
life from death

evil and good in separate rooms
divided by color, nothing more

what keeps me where I am
in or out

what keeps me stuck
clucking poems out
like a hen in a coop


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
5:18 a.m. 11.12.07