Painting My Kitchen

Painting my kitchen
My therapist said I should write about painting my kitchen
The most boring topic I ever heard
I can't think of a word

Is she sadistic?
Assigning me chores I could never complete so I'll go ballistic
Fail miserably and she'll see how I handle defeat

Or she's being artistic
Look for clues in the colors I choose

Am I painting it red?
Am I angry with someone who's stuck in my head?
But not in my bed?
Is it something she said?

A parental dilemma I've yet to resolve
It's hard to believe I can really еvolve
By mentally painting my kitchen

Am I slathеring on a deep blue?
Is that what she expects me to do?
A truer blue than anyone I've ever loved has ever been true?

Would she even care?
Or would she pocket my check with a pat on my cheek
Ask me what time can I make it next week
And mention deep blue's a reflection of utter despair
Painting my kitchen

Am I painting it green?
She'd love it
For all I clearly covet

Your lover, your fame
The rise in your stock
Your time share in Spain
The size of your cock-
Tail ring
Enough of this color thing

Why paint the kitchen?
Why not the bedroom?
It's such a dead room lately
A new paint job would greatly
Enhance it
For the next horizontal dance it may
I pray, oh please, someday be the setting for

If I thought it would speed that up I'd be willing to paint the floor
With my tongue
In the nude
On network TV

Meanwhile
Back at the kitchen
My therapist is sitting with her arms crossed
She's looking stern
She's asking if I finished her assignment
And what I learned

I know she hopes for some dramatic breakthrough
To make her feel she's had a real effect
So what the heck
I tell her

Painting one's kitchen
Is more than the psyche reflected and color selected
At the risk of sounding a little strange
I think it's about change

It's not about dry paint
But rather the process of applying it
Honoring each shade
Instead of diluting or denying it
One never completely
Covers over a color, they always bleed through
The most we can hope for
Is a livable blend of the old and the new

Okay, so I'm laying it on pretty thick but it seems to be doing the trick

A beautiful, cacophonous, overlap of long sustaining notes
Life is not a coat of many colors, it's a color of many coats

Do I really believe all this?
It's anyone's guess
Does it win her approval, that's the important thing

Yes!