Red Star

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 01, 2018

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Submitted: May 01, 2018

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She can’t paint with all the colours of the wind

And she doesn’t care what’s just around the river-bend.

Because the deer is wheezing,

The rubber squeaks and gasps

And the white paint on the skull is chipped.

She doesn’t have to marry Kocoum

Because the earrings are terribly impractical

And the tree behind her is peeling of the wall

She won’t be swept off her feet by John Smith

Because the leaves are paper

And the glue has made the floor sticky.

She doesn’t want Disney

Because the river was never that blue

And the flowers smell of plastic.

The stereotypes hurt our eyes

And the history is getting lost.

When did Pocahontas become Rebecca

And when did nature become so dauntingly digital.


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