Itinerant Nebula
(Or “Making an Offer He Can’t Refuse” Revisited)
Like the Cheshire Cat without a smile
I float over hand-hewn obelisks
between barren golden oak branches
above apple tree havens where troughs of oats
mix barley, hay, and carrot offerings.
Wide-eyed, ever present, I watch you
light votive candles, inhale fragrant sticks
sanctified smoke spirals into the cosmos
purifies harsh thoughts, emits calm aromas while you
sketch my new reality: a horsehead nebula.
Ever-present, I sense my former equine body,
swishing an absent Arabian tail, letting winds
scratch my mane, withers, and hooves
honoring decapitation’s nightmarish release—
my disembodied skull a dignified abomination.
Like the Cheshire Cat without a smile
I float over hand-hewn obelisks
between barren golden oak branches
above apple tree havens where troughs of oats
mix barley, hay, and carrot offerings.
Wide-eyed, ever present, I watch you
light votive candles, inhale fragrant sticks
sanctified smoke spirals into the cosmos
purifies harsh thoughts, emits calm aromas while you
sketch my new reality: a horsehead nebula.
Ever-present, I sense my former equine body,
swishing an absent Arabian tail, letting winds
scratch my mane, withers, and hooves
honoring decapitation’s nightmarish release—
my disembodied skull a dignified abomination.
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