skinned colts in a heap at the dump flies affixed to the glistening coating red and shiny congealed in the midday sun these colts don't run anymore the old man invites his grandkids to the farm that same afternoon the pet their favorite goat then he kills it with his car a butterfly landed on my tongue while I drifted in twilight unaware of life in the balance and I munched that little mo-fo so the question is which is the big tragedy dead colts/goat/butterfly? I'm not sure but if you asked the butterfly it would say that I'm a dick
