Toy Horses

Behind the red dragon
I saw culture rips their face off
Can seekers too young to face them
Looking to the ground as street dogs
Share your nutritious poison
Like you share this hurricane
A cold sad grateful fuck sllaped on your vision
On your ears, Spitted by his mouth
Behind that red dragon
Away in the middle of dying throats
Tempted by that yellow disgusting...
He is the comrade of the soldiers
Pedestrians and I like apple’s taste
Cautiously not being infected
I’m not a good guesser
But the old sweet bottle has moved me so far
No doubt!...victims...war... racing cars that you are
Someday tires will be spent
And fuel won’t last until the sun is rising
Somebody has to face a cleaver in the chest
To pay all this years of suicidal blindness
Boiling right behind that red dragon
Dancing meats laughing for the butcher
Loud enough to wake up all the stillbirthing creatures
Silent enough to keep newborns where they are
Behind the red dragon
Where the culture lies

I.B.