Short Hindquarters Poems

In the billow of mercurial cataclysms
Sharp as the pyrexia of igneous pebble stones
Upon my hindquarters I was cast
The circles that were established
Branded my skin with cancerous nightmares
Crafting the twisted love song ****ing my throat
Through the lavender haze I tread
Threatened by a medley of conundrums
The tongue legislating such echoes
‘tis the element I so daringly seek...

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Being a sheep is a wondrous thing.
Never alone, always with a crowd.
One follows sheep rules all day long.

But this sheep alone,stands in fright.
Oh, winter's coming!
There will be cold blight and nights.

The other sheep turn their hindquarters 
on her.
After all, she had the unabashed nerve,
to listen to her own heart's inner murmur.


          10/15/2020
            Opus#2...

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"please sit on your sitzfleisches,"the 4th grade teacher said
Preschoolers do not understood German, so they continued to stand
"Sit on your hindquarters!" This was stated a bit louder.
The kids stared at her, still not understanding.
"Your haunches, your petootsies, your derrieres!"
They looked totally consternated now.
A preschool teacher walked in.
"Sit on your pockets," she said.
They all sat....

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Hindquarters
have formed a saddle
of this office chair.
Trotting comfortably
through
a wilderness scrub
some tag as poetry.
A large man on a little pony,
A small man
alone
on this vast plasma prairie.
daring to seek out outlaw ways.
Reaching
the end of a distant thought
drawing a mind picture,
raising hell
on a digital silver screen,
a place where hombres
herd images together,
then brand them,
with a slap on the rump.



...

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