Landlord Yellow

It clung to the lamppost,

flapping a little, sun-bleached

to that specific shade.

Not a marigold bright,

not a happy dandelion puff,

but the sick-bed sheet,

the institutional custard,

the piss-stain yellow.

'Apartment For Rent,' it promised,

in blocky, faded type.

A low rent, I imagined,

for rooms painted

that same flat, dead color.

A yellow that sucks the light

out of a room,

and out of you.

A yellow that never quite fades away.