Peter McGee
Trumpet man!
If I were I one to charge to the front of firing lines,
I would have leapt through the store front window to shout:
“Sing high the sad dignity from the beehive in your
Sack, lean close to Panera bread window so their
Playlist might be drowned out! I’ve got only
My laundry change to give, unless you’ve got a
Venmo, but would you like to come along in my
Sad band? We’ll play off the world as she goes down.”
But I wait at my table by the door.
Rewriting my speech as he packs up and leaves.
Sad trumpet man,
Do you play the music just to pull
My swooning soul across the street,
Hands stuffed with my parent’s cash,
I can’t blame you for that.
But do you, but chance,
Also daydream of falcons,
Gliding freely through the air,
Over cities awash in all colors we can see?
Peter McGee is a Filmmaker Musician Poet and aspiring film technician from new Jersey. He Studies Radio Television and Film.
