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Fionn Regan
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The Horses Are Asleep
Horses are asleep,
with heavy eyes that close.
In dreams they trace the path,
by which the river flows.
Let spirit now align with the estuary.
As nightfall's open mouth howls out to the sea.
It starts with a kick then,
Hips a line vertically.
Muscle and bone, assemble.
The carriage of her arms breaks free.
I douse this bull rush with petrol from a can.
And into the forest, with it lit I ran.
I'm a man.
I'm a man.
I'm a man, with a child's heart.
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The horses are asleep.
The stable door will lock.
Count the hours you keep on a ballerina clock.
Let spirit now align with the current of the breeze.
As nightfall's open mouth howls out through the trees.
It starts with a kick then,
Hips a line vertically.
Muscle and bone, assemble.
The carriage of her arms breaks free.
I douse this brush with petrol from a can.
And into the forest with it lit I ran.
I'm a man.
I'm a man.
I'm a man, with a child's heart.
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