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

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