(drinking) (red)

let this
glass
fill me up
erase all undertones
of beige   or
white
ridiculous, whitey
you may say, easily –
so correct for we
cannot leave behind our
colour any more than
leave behind our child
shadow grasping tightly
in this rage called
today.

an impromptu poem written on a feature page of Juxtapoz interview 
on Julian Schanbel.