***
some say,
we backed the wrong horse
drove an economy until it fell
spent its energy on market strength
stoked the fires until they roared
lusted for an industrial wage
raped the produce of our lands
whipped the horse until it bled
with no thought of tomorrow
or the poor souls who follow.
and now,
the horse has left the barn
and terribly scarred by feverish appetites
has disappeared past the darkest hills.
tell me,
where do horses go to die?
where do horses go to die?
gah
.
4 comments:
Um, somewhere in Texas into a community that up until 2000 was white only? Is that the right answer? lol
Oh, and I left you an award over at my place if you're interested.
Gord this is a touching poem that
educates us all while telling a story
through your metaphor. It makes me want to pick up a pen and add a hopeful line...something about passionate horses never die, they are born again as unicorns and live in a place where each horse is valued for their beauty and uniqueness. They live again in the place where ideas are born brilliant, kicking new ideas...
it's the old boys that were whipping the horses, driving them backward, they are the
ones who will end up at the glue factories.
doubledouble friend from the Roaster
hi sheila,
thank you for the kind nod. friday is rough draft day, new column due tomorrow, so I hope i can take a peek later.
cheers,
gh
greetings cheryl,
thanks for your considered comments.
you're right, there could be a part two, re another horse or more.
maybe I need to put legs on some new ideas.
i'll get back to you.
cheers,
gord
Post a Comment