My Dad had said-
                he habited in expecting too much-
that white is arrogance
green a misconception
and
that hate
fills with black blood,
                                thick with intense burning.
He also believed
                1) that the sea connects to the land
                and not the other way around

                2) that you cannot bisect a triangle

                3) that you cannot cross a bridge
                without trust,
                                a traffic light the same.

After many declarations of this kind-
                         some more restricted than others
        and some
        half-begun-
nature took revenge,
but
I’ve yet to charge or to profane the injustice
and
I still believe that a book should be written
to tout such striking thoughts and superstitions
to shout again
what he has always known to
forget.