Even Odds

 
The world is black & white

–it is!

ask any Munchkin

(laying mortar)

the everyday  is

as Canned as

soup

–not the kind made interesting
 
 
by War Halls,

which face it—are

the interpretation of the

interpreted Bean

(a souped up platform)

–nor the fowl kind

made soul-warming

with canned

noodles, and

glutton-free, too

–nor the kind wrapped around

an onion

(itself wrapped around itself)

excepting the French

since that’s so

du jour

of the (every) day sounds more elegant au Francais!

–that ought’a be in Brackets–

as black & white

as the

read rows of this poesie,

(is everyday)

and if you can’t see what I’m getting at,

I’ll make it plane.

A plain is another route out of

Odds…

witch color green

is a poor choice for skyscrapers

–and the little dog, too–

since black & white suits a horizon,

silhouettes in grey.