What time is it?
How many hours till that hour
When I lie down, rest these aching legs and feet,
These weary, swollen, bleeding feet?
When I close my bloodshot eyes
Will it go away?
That feeling that I am roped
To three hundred and sixty thoroughbreds
Tall, sturdy, impatient thoroughbreds
Facing in three hundred and sixty directions
Each direction a degree apart from the next
The ropes are agonizingly taut
The animals rearing to go
What if they do
Will each take a piece of me with it?
When all I want to do
Is stay
In one piece
In one place
Silent, motionless, at peace.
