Wednesday, May 7, 2025

giddyup

do the horses,
ever say no,
i'm not doing this anymore.
do they stop
in the middle of a race
and say,
what the hell is going on?
why is this man whipping
me,
and crouched on
my back?
i'm going as fast as i can.
it's raining,
it's muddy, and the crowd
is drunk.
what do i get out of this,
some roses
around my neck
if i win,
some oats,
then out to stud to become
a sex slave
in the end.

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