Reflections of a Cart HorseReflections of a Cart HorseReflections of a Cart Horse
There is a cloth over my eyes. My driver put it here, to keep me from seeing the world. The world frightens me. I know it is still here, though, because I can smell it. I can hear it, too, and feel it. The world is biting into my hide like flies, only it isn’t flies because flies aren’t this big. It is spread over my back in a thin line, rubbing and sawing, holding the shafts of my cart against my flanks. I know it has to be there, so I don’t try to kick it off. The world is caked on my nose. &nbs
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.:*:.the Art of Possibility.:*:.
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Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart (The Ramones)
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