Monday, August 18

i dont update contacts when i lose my phone; i just figure out who really is my friend every 2-3 months

TAKE TWO: BOSTON to CORONADO

This time with feeling! No delusions.
I don't need pressure to write 
the masterpiece in my head
the story beginning at 13 
when a classic Queen 
reached out, touched down 
and spoke to me.  

a spell cast, and when I 
woke up, I found out 
I grew up in to
seventeen.
the race horse began to wake up
without having learned
his entitled dignity. 

Speed broke, and I raced
to catch up; but 
to what? 

Aged 21 in a quick blur.
December 24th, I awoke to reality.
and graciously, 
began training to be 
the winning thoroughbred;
I was bred and trained
and bought, hoped, 
then gambled
 by family, friends, 
and the faculty.

when i'm put 
for the night
in the stalls 
of the barn
where they sleep
naively, because,
we are tied up equally.

i neigh g'nite,
always poiltely, to
the donkey to my right,
the elephant to my left 
and the show ponies
who always
stare (clearly wishing
my death.) and
used to threaten me.

I placed my first race,
I didn't win. 
The undefinable 
finally flashed-
aware at last!
to me,
not the breeders
this time, and now 
regretful betters,
and so what if i lose,
if it's what she
wants to choose;
cause baby it's better
to die glue, then to 
bounce with you.

Out of respect, 
RACE HORSES 
are ridden by jockeys 
not children 
not cops
not cowboys 
not casual
ever, at all
 


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