Guest guest Posted July 9, 2006 Report Share Posted July 9, 2006 > > Hot summer day, > > A horse pisses on the dusty trail- > > The sound of rain! > > > > Pete > > > > Green flies hovering > > Over a possum carcass. > > How melodic and grand > > Their hypnotic death chant. > > > > Pete > > > > how rich the earth > with songs of decay, > how green the grass > > Ana > > On this dusty trail, I'm dust > Enjoying its own dustiness. > Water, singing as brook, > or as horse piss. > Death, chanting- > I can not die. > > Pete ah so, Remember this one? Your answer? ...and I... I Am Weary I am weary, earth-heavy and bone-chilled my freedom escapes like an Arabian Stallion, sure-footed, nostrils flaring running for the sheer joy of it, horse perspiration and savanna earth, a merging of sorts. I long to be that ground underfoot, felling me to my knees. For I desire again. Hugs, Ana Desire is the joy of pursuing the wind, and secretly wishing never to catch up. We desire to desire. That, we desire, above all. Pete Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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