See! See! See the mule as she trots below the bars, carrying the weight of the unicorn on her shoulders
Look at how only pills find their way into her cotton filled stomach
On the stage where she holds the light that shines upon the fairest of them all
So you can watch the princess in the tower,
And notice her cries from the sapphires that fall down her bony cheek
Why don't you spy the masses of she-demons that weep acid over the screen which erodes the paper thin illusions
Spotted illusions, that flash like circus lights which find their eyes upon the pinup doll who struts high up on a tightrope in the air
When the mule stares from the bottom of the stage, is it the thinness of the waist or the wire she finds herself in envy with?

Hear! Hear! Hear how the pig squeals when they ignore her wishes to eat from an empty trough
Listen to her scream for the bones that creak when she moves a little too much
Can she overhear the way they speak of her size, as if there's a prize for claiming the biggest pumpkin
When she tunes in to the radio and hears them praise the waists of corpses in their seats made of lost teenage palates
Then they will make out the subtle sawing and snips where she finds herself cutting off the undesired fat that's lingered for too long
Wasn't she warned that it isn't safe to use a plastic knife to cut off a muffin top?

Speak! Speak! Speak of what you want to see when you look in the carnival mirror that distorts your shape in all the desired places
Then we can **** up to the girls with halos that fit their size 00 waist,
And talk of chopstick legs with an appetite that follows,
So you can brag about how you only eat one at a time
In what manner is it necessary that you chat instead of chew, to distract from your untouched plates!
You ramble on and on about the space that satiates your hunger for beauty
The beauty that has destroyed what I loved about you
When I whisper to myself in the bathroom mirror so full of nothingness
So full...

But I'll still eat the last of the candy in the bag:
Orange bottles that linger my dreams above my lips,
Out of reach,
And out of sight.

I can still remember going to school
when it was raining
morphing into a mule
for things draining
from the life I thought I would rule
it's enflaming
all of this taming
with no one to save me
when the student meets master
whose whip is faster
than the policeman's blaster
protecting their interests
on the command of corrupt arbiters
so I can't make up the difference
when their money muscles are bigger.

They turn my peers into overlords
I can smell the overtone
of the rear odor grown
living in my motor home
parked at my job
the ark of the lost
heartless and tossed
friends of the frost
counting the cost
of commodity crops
guarded by cops
so I must pay the right price
or get filleted in a knife fight
by members of a different ark
their difference is stark
like they're the FARC
from Jurassic Park.

We once went to school together
until we were unspooled forever
diverging cultures sever
our tumultuous tethers
until we're rats racing
to the flats facing
the cliff casing
of a bullet blazing
through rodents raging
while automatically aging
in a game not worth saving
until our grave is paving
so the rats contract rabies
and try to enslave me
through shameless shaming
their nameless maiming
is grating gravely.

Their laugh of wit
a crack of whip
they slap I slip
in their pool of spit
which is fuel for grit
to not take their ****
until they break my hip
with the quake of work
I'm too raked and hurt
to spank their skirts
so I bank my irks
for another day
when I want to play.

The days continue to pass
as they misuse my ***
their issues last
through the time elapse
I can't seem to grasp
my life from their clutches
I tightrope with crutches
until I break for my lunches
or break from the punches
of a million miniscule crunches.

They break me in
they break me down
I can't hear any hymns
over factory sounds
I haven't been to the gym
since I developed this limp
being their gimp
getting ****** on the regular
my only communication is cellular
feeling so molecular
kicking for a living like Shane Lechler.

I look at the analogue clock
sitting next to my Econolodge cot
to see this is all the time I got
getting high smoking ***
pretending I'm something I'm not
which is happy
childhood friends outlap me
all the while laughing
about old jokes from school
like forgotten jewels
carried by a beaten mule
working for wool
so it can dress like a sheep
so it can get some sleep
to forget the regrets it's reaped.

Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session.

Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such.

Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an ***?! Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!

I would ride all night
on a broken down mule
To be with you
once again

I would walk on glass
through the desert
If it would
alleviate the pain

I would crawl
across the mountains
If I could you
as you were
again regain

I would swim
the entire ocean
For you to know
my love will still
forever be true

Still nothing
brings any solace
Except the company
of someone who doesn't
always remind me
of you.

-R.

8.31.17
-LA

-MAR