Many horses: propulsive river embanked
by languid anguish. Trust it, erosion—
forceful meshing of mud and medicine.
Prepare for intimacy. Verve fixed, cleansing
the crevasse between right and wrong.
Leave a coin, drop a line,
add a stone to the pile of well-worn,
well-meaning, well-wishing ancestors.
Contemplate prismatic prisons, linear
loves, as graves squelch slow smoke,
belch broken multitudes, sacred coughing...
Grandfather smile. Suede boots,
blue eyes, the underbelly of a road.
Remember who you are;
the molecules in you were once a star.
Now roving, revolving, sobs burble,
illuminated; counting, culling cuts...