"Move" they say
and put martingale on with a neigh
Thai pony in Chiang Mai

A green patch of grass
was what your heart desires
would yourself like a chew of truss?

In the forest with no name
on hard concrete without an aim
swimming with the tuk-tuk wave

"Where am I?"
you ask with side-patched eye
"My knees are soft like a microwaved pie"

But all you ever get
is a whip on the back
from the oddity with some leather strap

"Why are you so hesitant
while all the other stallions are competent
don't you know the creatures in the carriage are very important?"

"How important are the vultures in the world I don't know
but I know that I won't say no
if you borrow a thread of my hair for a violin bow
and play their funeral march with it to and fro"