I
Put my
Coin into the

Slot
And watch the
Plastic horses
Galloping away.

Now my ears sing
And I lead straight lines to circles,
Into symbols for the eye inside the glass ball,
Its blinking is its calling.
I carry it,
Cables dripping from my sleeves
Stumbling out of
And from
The oceans favour,
Back to my own arms.

Feeding back the seagulls to the breeze.

The thunder feeds my compass
To a sun lost in a forest.

Thrown into boxes with carpeted walls;

I find myself playing

Heavy metal.

— for the American Mustang



Strung up on one leg, bled dry while alive,
unloaded off trailers crammed full
of the crippled and blind —mares
giving birth on three legs, foals trampled
by stallions, and a wave of fear
hovering over tossing manes
like the sea after Moby **** surfaced
for the first time. Last year,

135,000 horses died —

rounded up in hundreds and sent
off to slaughter like feeder goldfish,
three stops from Canada
or Cabo, displaced from plains
once revered for their livelihood.

In 1969, Vonnegut
wrote, “And so it goes…”

In 2061, our children will ask about the wild
horses who used to live in their backyards
as they catch the last fireflies and bottle
them up in jars, flickering and dying
like tired bulbs giving up on electricity —

2015 sees Henderson, Nevada grasses paying tribute
to power-plant-lines and a suburb built
on Tralfamadore fiction: house-mounds
and picket fences caging domesticated dogs,
curb-lined streets and caution signs, billboard
warnings of humanity’s fixation with progression,
combined like coffee with an overabundance
of half-and-half and too much sugar — only 99 cents
at Dunkin down a little ways, and home
to the dreamers who forget the word freedom.

black cats under calico sky's
in catacombs.white out mask mirrored eyes
white owl massacre  night, leaving the bones
take off mask you are home
you live in your cave
escaping hoards of insane
is this all a dream
this cant be reality
its obscene,its us
its everything, passing fling
refrain from truly connecting
parting your society
collapsing into the sea
****** debauchery hearing screams
in the a trophy of atrophy
this is everything I am wanting, and yet nothing at all
its a quick trip to the bottom, but this time your on top again
ride the horses the moist rainy night
show me I am wrong
and prove your are right
so I may worship at your feet
and steal away the night

We were mixing our affections
Kissing Dixie cups of wine
Laughing at the passing time

Our fingertips touching
And wishing for another
Chapter to be read

We were down at the barn
Where the horses stay

We were hanging around
messing around in the hay

You dropped your Dixie cup
I threw mine away
You smiled and said what the hey

The moon came harvesting
The stars were laughing
And we had our day that night

Soufflé light massages my eyes
A cool oven breeze puts out the lies
I am a Goner,
no lives

Lived this day as
boredom gallops through.
Its hooves are in need of a deep clean
They don't allow the light to gleam.
So the light lets off steam

Horses halt, dragging thief feet in hope
of defeating this power,
wishing the paper would jam

But the sun, though none the wiser,
paints the walls and the faces.
Cooks a most creative meal.
Brings the stampede to a kneel.

We were mixing affections
Kissing Dixie cups of wine
Laughing at the passing time

Our fingertips touching
And wishing for another
Chapter to be read

We were down at the barn
Where the horses stay

We were hanging around
Messing around under the hay

You dropped your Dixie cup
I threw mine away
You smiled and said ,"What the hey."

The moon came a harvesting
The stars were giggling behind the clouds that strayed
And we had our day that night