The Slinging of Hash

sitting in an old run down
barn
dreaming 
of the day 
upon waking that the animals
will be non-rabid
towards me
they  do not 
sit with teeth bared
they moved with the precision
of the preternatural
ability
that makes me calm
i move like a 90 year old man
with all the knowldge
but with hands 
that 
boast fingers which
simutaneously
make
a floor clean
and 
a whore scream
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

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