2010 – Julie Page – Beige

SNHU Undergrad Poetry Winner from the 2010 issue

Julie Page

Beige is the color
of Birkenstocks, old underwear, the third cup
of coffee; of fallen leaves found in the yard
after the snow melts, forgotten
friendships, the memory of the boyfriend who called
you a cunt, and of soot on white walls and teeth stained
from years of evening shiraz when everyone around you
uses Crest White Strips. Beige lies
in the air the morning after losing
your virginity and on sofas in front of wide-screen televisions, and it
smells like burnt birthday cake and dinner
when the cook hates cooking. Beige hangs around
old ladies’ bedrooms and their
formal living rooms and beige is
the color of their unused china and their melba toast and tea
with milk. And beige is in knowing
that might be you in fifty years. Beige is
the color of a brilliant idea forgotten
with the hangover and of the memories of praise
and of never having felt worthy of the praise
in the first place. And beige is
in the feeling of being cut off by a man in a silver Mercedes
with the license plate 4U2NV and
of being like a pilot in a holding pattern
and not finding the courage to fly away.

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