Equestrian Dreams
Wilbur…
He beckons me from sleep
He hovers there in shadow
Lost between the pitted ivory walls
And stiletto shards of moonlight
Growing on the concrete floor
Beside my bed
“Don’t scream,” he warns
“It’s only me.”
And I see him now
A visage suspended in ether
That lovable, talking horse
The discoursing Mr. Ed.
His phantom floats with languid ease
The severed entrails writhe
With a life all their own
The open ends of each vein a maw
Opening, closing, mouthing accusations
“Killer!” they scream
His eyes glazing over
With mucus and blood
“Murderer,” they seem to cry
To hide my eyes
I try raising my arms
But they are lost somewhere
Behind me
“One more time,” he utters
His voice colder than a tomb
Damper than the grave
“You must do it one more time,
He says
“No!” I scream
“I won’t kill again!”
But he hovers there still
He dangles on the air
Still talking
Talking…
Always talking…
Saying I must show him
That I’m
Sorry
“Look at me,” his voice angered
“You did this!”
No!
I scream.
I pound my head against the bedpost
Keeping rhythm with his rantings
Hoping to shake the wraith from my mind
Get out of my head
Get out I cry!
His voice echoes in the distance
There is a ringing in my ears
Needles catch fire in my brain
But the accusations grow louder
Still they grow louder
And as my world turns suddenly red
I still hear him
Talking…
10/10/93