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The Humorless King
by Rickey Rivers Jr.
I sit on a bone throne picking your brain.
The court jester sings songs of sin,
of worldly men.
His feet bloody skin.
He slips and falls before me.
The court room laughs.
And I only sentence.
For these prats don't humor the humorless.
And I am here now.
Picking and pricking and prodding,
always in mind
with tentacles and instruments.
You belong to me.
Rickey Rivers Jr was born and raised in Alabama. He is a writer and cancer survivor. His work has appeared in Dream Noir Magazine, Bonnie's Crew, Nightingale & Sparrow, Crepe & Penn (among other publications). Twitter.com/storiesyoumight / https://storiesyoumightlike.wordpress.com/ His third mini collection of 3x3 poems is available now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VDH6XG5
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