Wax horse’s.

The stampede by all those four horses that 

We’re turned from clay before we arrived 

To create wax slaves of friends and lovers 

Memorandum laying Scattered along floor.

Could you see where the embers lay falling to 

Remind you of success and previous failures 

to spark the fire beneath burnished roof tiles 

propped to see the blacksmith raining Fluers

on the earths changing Equinox 

Leading me to see the mirrored horns 

it still can’t escape with key it stole.

To the high road amongst statues of eight raised 

in testament to scrap metal theft 

and commodity’s binned did the paper magnet 

climb Back from the first rom it couldn’t 

delete causal voyeurism of repeat

Offenders that officials stamped 

And cleared having seen the fifty

States its leaving behind.