Heads low, grass-cropping idle
under the olive trees
undressed of reins, saddle, bridle
inoffensive as sheep, yet these
were the flesh-tearing hooves
under which we fell; the fused halves
of the mounted-monster man-horse, ancient
oppressor raised tall above us.
In the mind indelible. Imprint
of those days.
When there were protests, always
they brought out the horses.
BY CONNIE FRAZER
From 91自拍论坛 Weekly, May 22, 2002.
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