David Fleming
It's All Academic   www.davidflemingsite.com   
Back At The Stable

April 12, 2020

I toss the hay, pitchfork slashing through the air,

My horse rewarded for work well done.

I inhale the smells, enjoy the silence,

Wishing I could ride the path again.

My foul breath has never been sweeter,

My sweat has never been riper.

I took down cities, shut down empires,

The enigma they're too stupid to decipher.

I smoke a cigar and groom my mare,

Her bridle and ring my altar,

Didn't worry about being seen,

When my invisibility was my collar.

Across the fields a hump-backed woman

Struggles to put her leaves

Into a tidy little bonfire

And I grin that she can still believe.

Just keep on with your routines,

You misguided moronic fools,

Your pristine yards, your painted houses,

Will make your lovely tombs.

Heed none of the warnings,

Tune out the hoofbeats.

12 more legs will come and scatter dust

Under the bellies of the beasts.

We never thought it would be this easy,

Assumed there'd be a wall of defense.

Turns out it was built to scale

By those too self-absorbed to repent.