MUSIC draft1

Mama

I bought brass wound strings

this morning at the fair

(from a man

who had no business being there)

for the intention of a song

a small sincerity,

will you help me?

let’s pull them taught

round my arms

and secure them

at my wrists

we’ll hear it when the wind blows

and when the humidity manifests

it’ll all collect

in the grooves of the cords

until it rejoins

its companions

Mama

I want to hear music

all the time

I don’t mind

the words

or the rhymes

I really love the spaces

in between everything

they make for sweet tea

when the grass has been itching me

and my feet are sore from

the walk to the creek