They Shoot Horses. Don'T They? Poem by Rusty Daily
They Shoot Horses. Don'T They?
Talcum and ointment
suspend the rash
and the safety pinned cloth
refreshes the happy drool.
The crackle of starched white
accompanied by an antiseptic cloth
and another ‘accident’
fills the biologics bin.
From that to this,
chronicled in Kodak
Instamatic and digital segues
in a book to be revealed
by the post mortem dig.
I once heard,
“They Shoot Horses. Don’t They”?
I like this a lot, Rusty. The message is clear. I have a couple of nitpicky things. Check your in box. Okay...otherwise...another philosophical gem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:52:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice one rusty , keep it up