This is a very strange poem written at an exceedingly early hour to the prompt: Orange Bone (If you read this on the Reader, you won’t see all facets of the poem.  You must go to my site to do so.)

                                                                      Dem Bones

Mexico has tickled my orange bone–
every sedate instinct concerning décor
flown out the window like a freed hummingbird.

A bright gold house with fuchsia trim.
Orange living room with blue and green and red arches.
Denim blue entryway and chartreuse hall.
A turquoise beam in the pumpkin kitchen.

If you have a bone to pick with me over my choice of colors,
it will tickle my funny bone tell you
that I am bone tired
of beige and cream and grey.
Any bonehead can paint a house eggshell or vanilla.
Use marrow of bone
to flavor the soup,
but give me colors that will stir my crazy bone.

Give me cinnamon, mustard, raspberry, persimmon.
Those are colors to make a meal of.
These colors excite and wear me out–
make me bone lazy.

Boney Maroney
with paint under my fingernails.
Vivid. Flashing. Vibrant.
Colors that have satisfied
my orange bone.

This prompt was generated from:  http://jennifernicholewells.blogspot.mx/2015/08/jnws-writing-photo-prompt-generator.html

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