Richard Prins

FEAR MUSIC

Hold a tune's hand and it bleeds
right through you. Let's blame song

for having a pulse. It's the reeds' 
fault; when blown, they skewer

the vein that lures us into ease.
Pain halts, yet lingers, like a song

that makes me snap my fingers
(so it can make me do wrong

like lashing awake with you
unable to grasp whose hips

are whose, whether you embody me
or I embody you). I mistake my glass

for your wine. I'll miss your lips
and how they weren't mine.

Richard Prins is a lifelong New Yorker. Publications include Gulf Coast, jubilat, Ploughshares, and a "Notable" mention in Best American Essays 2014. Arrests include criminal trespass (Trump Tower), disorderly conduct (Trump International Hotel), resisting arrest (Republican National Convention), and incommoding the halls of Congress (United States Senate).