rodeo dust:
dusty clowns
from the dubious
confines
of
horn-battered barrels
barrels of laughter
laughing at the madness of a
bull
and their own
madness in the path of a train
why do i smell
blood?
stoke the furnace of a man to such a height
that blood is all he hears
and
barrels then?
their deafening vacancy drums the
lie
that
echoes through the
grandstand bleachers
the
bronco's broken the bank is bust