Unicorns

 

—Poetry by Brian Rihlmann, Reno, NV

—Public Domain Photos

TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE
 
as the cooks
prepare the dinner trays
and I stack them on a cart
they talk about how they
can't send pineapple
to the kids' unit anymore
 
there's a girl over there
with a severe allergy, you see
and at first they'd
just eliminate it from her meal
but she'd always manage
to get her hands on someone’s
trying to go into anaphylactic shock
and get the hell out of there
and maybe the world
that way
 
and now, says Tony
shaking his head
it's barbecue sauce
because apparently
that's got pineapple in it too
 
I say how sad
yet innovative that is
 
they look at me
 
I'm a moron
I've allowed my aberrance
to seep
 
I keep my mouth shut as we finish
then I load the van and
drive toward those hungry kids
waiting for me out there
in the darkness 

 

 

 

 


MUCH LIKE LIFE
 
these days
in order to not waste
more of my precious time
I actually read
some of the journals
that have previously
rejected my work...
 
...sort of read them
 
it’s tough when you
look at something
that resembles confetti
or a jigsaw puzzle
dumped on the floor
 
the broken lantern
of a madman
 
my first thought is usually—
what the fuck?
and my second—
no wonder they rejected me
 
trying to sift my way
through this rubble
makes me feel like I do
listening to the new generation
of death metal
enjoyed by my younger friends
 
what I like is now “Old School”
 
it’s impressive, no doubt
a mad flurry of strings and drums
a patchwork of time signatures
a total sonic assault
 
lacking any groove
 
nothing, not a thread
to grab hold of
as the notes swirl all around me
like a lone figure
in a shaken snow globe 

 

 

 

 

SO HAPPY
 
every time I see my
old friend she
tells me how
great her life is now
it's stress free
and she loves her
job and the house
she lives in—
just her and her dog
she's done with men
and all that nonsense
she's too old
for that anymore
I haven't had a cock in me
in over ten years
she says, laughing
 
so we visit awhile
and she tells me
how fucked up her
estranged daughter is
and how she's
fighting with her sister, again
and twenty minutes
after I've said
well...I better go now
just in case I've forgotten
she reminds me
that she's happy
and loves her life
as she feeds me
cookies and brownies
here, try these!
and whatever else
she's baked lately
as I inch toward the door
and that damned mutt
bites at my shoelaces
like a nest of tiny snakes

 

 

 

 

UNICORN
 
a true nonconformist
would point and laugh
at all the other nonconformists
 
with their peace signs
swastikas
or pentagrams
 
with their tattoos
piercings
and rainbow hair
 
or their black leather jackets
black eyeliner
and black fingernails
 
all huddled together
in flocks
 
he'd point and laugh
at his own reflection
then run naked
bald and unadorned
through the streets
pointing and laughing
at everything
and everyone
 
he'd never quit
until they tossed him
in a cell someplace
 
and maybe
not even then

___________________

Today’s LittleNip(s):

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a unicorn. A badass unicorn.

—Sebastien Milon

* * *

A unicorn is just a horse with a point of view.

—Ron Sexsmith

____________________

Welcome back to the Kitchen, Brian! It’s been a while since Brian visited us, so here’s reminder: Brian Rihlmann lives and writes in Reno, Nevada. His work has appeared in many magazines, including The Rye Whiskey Review, Fearless, Heroin Love Songs, Chiron Review and The Main Street Rag. His latest poetry collection, Night At My Throat, was published in 2020 by Pony One Dog Press. He was first featured in Medusa’s Kitchen in May of 2019; see medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/search?q=brian+rihlmann and scroll down. For more about this Nevada poet, go to allpoetry.com/Brian_Rihlmann/.

____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

Brian Rihlmann

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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