the great american yellow poem (Frances Chung)

'The great american yellow poem' (by Frances Chung) is rather short, only 8 lines, and rather monochromatic - awfully yellow. But I suppose that's to be expected from the title.

GIS for Ochre

I like tracing a life through moments of similarity. Here - color is the binding, but I wonder if any item or thought would do.

You get a sense of N's culture and the spaces N inhabited. The last line makes me wonder why N only lived a yellow life and wouldn't even vary the teensiest bit (over to 'ochre' or 'citronella'). Is it pleasing - the quality of sameness or is it a (racist) nod to N's ethnicity?

Favorite line: "she learned to name forsythia where it grew"

she learned to name forsythia where it grew