Monday, March 21, 2011

Horse On The Hill (A Poem)


massive mood
with
new moon virginity
slapping it away
on the beach

ancient scripts
hidden to move forward
with an
spongy eye
and shaking
passionate thighs

the dumb mountain
with its predictable rocks
and snowcaps
are property of four
masters
on horseback
whose names
now
escapes me
(thanks to a thirty
year love affair
of the come hither booze)

smiling with
nipple pierced
freedom
and
green hair
to boot
  shear slices of
painted lips
calls out my
name with
mighty baritone
and a thunderous
appetite
feeding the fire
to more fire

and all the while
Gabrielle
knits down by
the lake of suicide
and I compose lyrics
comprised of
twigs
ash
mercury
and
myrrh
  a love song
straight to the
beating hearts of
the Magi
from
my one eye head
my 12 fingered hand
my pattern of failure

turning fire to steam
in the
once green fields
asking why…
ask why again…
asking away the
afternoon
 the cloudless spine days
when all turns yellow
with fear
..even the green eyed monster
of Shakespeare’s
nursery rhymes

and so
this little piggy
and this rancid pony
collapses
into a heap
before the woman
even had a chance
to swallow
what was read to her
with the sun
shining in her
eyes
and no one
meant for her
to cry
  it was simply an accident
that every
old man
in the universe
could not
have prevented

no one is perfect
she tells herself
as she settles
into
the final knock
of deaths rasping cough
not even the horse
on the hill

nope
not even he












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