Cephalopod

I haven't written anything in a...long time. Really long time. I believe it may be at least one year now, if not more.

I was all set to examine why, but that's really about as useful as examining why I don't feel like having stir-fry for dinner or whatever. So screw that, here's a poem dedicated to the Bastard Death Horse in Red Dead Redemption. No matter what horse you have, if you are enough of a motherfucker (i.e. lose enough Honor) you will eventually become the Bastard Death Horse's designated mount. You thought you bought/stole a nice gold horse? Turn your back and suddenly it has transformed into the BASTARD DEATH HORSE. Expensive pinto wanders off over the plains out of sight? Whistle, and the BASTARD DEATH HORSE APPROACHES. Got a burro? Not for long! BASTARD DEATH HORSE. Mount eaten by a bear? Whistle! Free horse, any kind you want. AS LONG AS THE KIND YOU WANT IS BASTARD DEATH

"In Perpetua Equus"

Hills of dead flesh on the desert.
All the same: black horse, skull face, and wounds.
I kill it
I whistle
Another one comes.
This plague on the land will continue
Until I can buy a real horse with the skins.


(irony: killing your horse causes you to lose Honor. The Death Horse is the gift that keeps on giving.)