pinkies up by Zane Frederick

i borrow my mother’s laugh,

hang it behind my uvula, warm and ready,

the mouth of a trumpet echoing

forged happiness, no one can tell

my throat is rusting brass and when

i play it for the crowd i think they

all believe it sounds perfect, and

maybe if i play loud enough i’ll start

to believe it too

Zane Frederick

Zane is a city born Gemini, raised in the hell and heart of Phoenix, Arizona. He is a junior studying Hotel and Restaurant Management with a minor in Art History. When not writing, he plays guitar, piano, and delves into art history books. His future plans include working his way up in a hotel or restaurant and hopefully continuing to self publish poetry books. 

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