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Mother gazelle, father horse
The mender, the hill and the mire
Galloping hard the same course
Aiming farther and higher

I fear that I can’t
I’m sweating for bread
Sweating to get out of bed

I kept the hoofs that stomped the Lilac
I shed my mane for you Delilahs
You wrote on parchments of my skin
You stuffed and glued my head in nylon

Mother gazelle, father horse
I was shot by the hunt’s dull ambition
You can plaster and lime all you want
But my reek from the walls will never leave
And you’ll know I was right all along
Statues made love – stitches were born
You’ll know I was right all along!

Sincerely yours,
Your trim headed son,
The lion that failed everyone.

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