On Species Equus

 
             
     Whether its Pegasus or cosmic herds cavorting around Ophiuhcus 
 - centaurs, dragons, leprechauns, apocalypse's horses and their ilk,
 or our four-footed, earthbound lot, as yet not taken to the skies;
                           they include the human variety: Sagittarius’s hybrid own                     
   unlimited in scope but direly bridled by gravity -
by anything grave and boring 
 or requiring they actually stand still!
 
See them, glorious creatures 
pounding the skyey highways, leaping, falling, crashing through boundaries,
 for ever far-seeing, mis-judging; daring the Furies,
striking poses, scanning for sporty opportunities, fearless and rash,
 unabashed by loss or failure -
all grist to their mill, the need to find
then lose, move on;
notches on their CVs.
 
Some may prove low-key:
undetected behind their guises,
 beware!
They’re the ones who incubate wings and bide their moment,
who pack a punch, embody surprise and confound the geno-norm.
Somehow, Saturn endowed them with ballast!
Someone got a bridle in their mouth
and tethered that early wildness
into a seed of wisdom, good timing
and Jupiter’s very own pot of luck.
 
Though, didn’t the Lord say: Judgment is Mine?
No worries! they replied. 
We’ll save Your Mightiness
 the bother!   We’ll do it -
setting up courts of law, petty and otherwise
with all the paraphernalia of scales forthwith, 
alongside ponds for witches plus mafia jurisdictions
 with their arbitrary, preemptive pronouncements to justify
- exonerate, exemplify and unfortunately, actualize.
Sobeit. It’s Done! Up yours!
 
To begin, they are men with tally ho, horsey jaws
who challenge the odds,
 gambling their lives away; 
the chase, irresistible; 
junkies for speed and danger; obsessing about breed and beauty of form,
 with the best and worst of their socialite, eugenic mates.
 
They can evolve to gurus and sages - lofty or perfidious -
holding forth on the fruits of their Quests and hard-won adventures
 - into the stratosphere of gods, divas
or of their own fiesty folly.
 
Whatalot!


June