High Horse
Don't charge me
I will chop you down
Cut that frozen wooden mane
And splinter ever-silent hooves
Your polished steed
All broken up
Dragged away
For me to use
Solid fuel anger
To feed the fire
Stoke it
Watch it
Start to flare
Swelling up
The boiler sweats
And creaks
And pops
In heavy air
I like the way
It bubbles up
An angry metal burning spot
An ulcer in the searing dark
I will chop you down
Cut that frozen wooden mane
And splinter ever-silent hooves
Your polished steed
All broken up
Dragged away
For me to use
Solid fuel anger
To feed the fire
Stoke it
Watch it
Start to flare
Swelling up
The boiler sweats
And creaks
And pops
In heavy air
I like the way
It bubbles up
An angry metal burning spot
An ulcer in the searing dark
posted by Ultra Toast Mosha God at 2:40 AM
1 Comments:
I like this - dark, fraught with emotion with an almost industrial overtone to it.
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