Red

I have met the color Red
and the set of friends
she chooses to spend her time with.
In the end, it seems
she befriends
only those she can bully.

There is, of course, red hot Jazz
and red Desire
pumped up to a scorching flame,
the need for fame
that assumes
everyone will be knocking:

red Blood and her closest companions,
birth, wounds and, best,
the bloody remains of rape, 
blunt death, contusion.

There is even her friend, Transfusion,
when her wish to help
goes beyond unwanted intrusion.

I would say that Red, by herself, 
is a no-win game,
a riot that cannot be contained.
She's about the same
as racks pulled hot from an oven.
She requires gloves.

And might I say, I think Red in her way
needs gray
and, of course, she'll get it, 
providing she lives long enough.
I don’t need to sweat it.