The Color of My Fruit-Bearing Place

If I had to think of this election in terms of color, those colors would be hue and hue alone. The purest of pure. No changing, distorted, yo-yoing values (blind insertions of black and white). Just straight bouncing blues, anti-rhetoric reds, give-it-to-me straight greens, yes-sir (I decide for my vagina. It is after all my vagina) yellows.

 

 

Let Sarah keep her Trig’s aimed at the big maroon-haired animal in the sky blue. Let her keep her Palin peach and stow it under some snow and a dead, antlered carcass. I dare it to bear fruit on the snowy Alaskan plain. She does not represent my color, as a woman or otherwise.

 

 

 

Our times, our times. Color.

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