a yellow curtain i could

fill in for you

thick linen, mustardy drape

rejection of the exterior

but there is only this smudge—

hello, sun

*

scrambled eggs are yellow

and marigolds, and gold

glisten glitter glimmer glint

cognate with division

a yellow onion isn’t really

and what color is a blond

a smiley face—

*

by the side of the road

mustard broadcast

by friars settling north

as in the garden closer

to home South African oxalis

housewives began in window pots

crowds ornamentals, all parts

even the tubers, edible

bitterness that blurs savoring

or bracing sour tang

cheery rash of color

California’s winter hills

filling history, noxious flavor

i put you in my mouth