by Rickey Rivers Jr.
Depressing news, normalized.
Can’t get away from, running like water in the brain, night thoughts.
They run up the bill.
Ironically I can’t pay them mind only attention.
Sleep service is different from lip but leave a tip in my jar please.
Help me with relief in form of speech and not pills.
Trouble in the world, we hurl so much at each other.
Hatred is a constant thing.
As are the birds who sing of human folly.
We don’t listen to anything past chirps.
Rickey Rivers Jr. was born and raised in Alabama. He is a writer and cancer survivor. His work has appeared in Picaroon Poetry, Back Patio Press, Marias at Sampaguitas, Crepe & Penn (among other publications). Follow him on Twitter @storiesyoumight or his website https://storiesyoumightlike.wordpress.com/. His third mini collection of 3×3 poems is available now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VDH6XG5.
(And don’t disregard Rickey’s poem Eyes on the Sun from our October 7, 2019 Weekly. – Elephants Never)