HE WAS A NICE GUY
The shot hit his gut and he rang out -
a loud, resounding grunt. I knew
he was dead. His fandango was done, that
last dance was over. Flowers of the doomed.
-
No stallion like that had ever run this
ranch before : perfectly coiled,
ruminatively black, a thick, lush
coat. I shuddered just to see.
That horse, I swear, had bangs
over its eyes; a mane like
an angel should only wear.
-
Brazos, Abilene, St. Pete.
The word went out and
they all went somewhere.
Nothing rivals a dream
like the dream that follows.
The shot hit his gut and he rang out -
a loud, resounding grunt. I knew
he was dead. His fandango was done, that
last dance was over. Flowers of the doomed.
-
No stallion like that had ever run this
ranch before : perfectly coiled,
ruminatively black, a thick, lush
coat. I shuddered just to see.
That horse, I swear, had bangs
over its eyes; a mane like
an angel should only wear.
-
Brazos, Abilene, St. Pete.
The word went out and
they all went somewhere.
Nothing rivals a dream
like the dream that follows.
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