by Rickey Rivers Jr.
Blazing horns
Scorn to the son with songs in his head
Oh, we see each other in this brilliant light
Difference is we behave much different
Oh, I know truths indeed
Yes!
Wind instruments are friends
And strings become foes when they’re used to control
Lift me, great horns, lift me high
The clouds can’t contain the music in our brains
We don’t deny influence of the read books
We cry at night for peace, sirens offer a similar blaze
Unlike the horns they are unfriendly
Cuffs like strings contain you
Work to get green
Babies need food and clothes
“Why care of this? You’re too young for children”
Yet here they are indeed.
Rickey Rivers Jr was born and raised in Alabama. He is a writer and cancer survivor. His work has appeared in Brave Voices, Hell Hued Zine, Coven Poetry (among other publications). Find his interactive fiction at rrj.itch.io/notable-neighborhood-garbage. His mini chapbooks are available at payhip.com/StoriesYouMightLike.
