Losing Color

These hoofs— scarred forever by the union of U-shaped steel plates onto each of my palmars, a permanent shoe, fecundated by the cruelty of Man towards animals since the start of man-consciousness— have patiently travelled thousands of miles through hundreds of different terrains— soft soil, steep bush-ramps, whispering sand dunes, icky stretchy mudground, mossy screes, smooth unearthed pine roots, subzero riverbeds— all in the name or for the sake of what Man calls Journey— a migration perhaps? I’m not sure. I never know. These man-beings they never tell me where they’re heading— always so discreet like I’m an erratic bipolar bear who would rip their heads off and gallop to Boston if he says “Ohio.”

I’ve walked for days this trip. Thirteen sunsets? I’m not sure. My memory is bad but don’t you dare compare me to a goldfish— I’m way better. I can count. Yes. I’ve been counting my steps all this while— nine thousand four hundred and twenty-two— which explains why I’ve lost track of sunrise and sundowns— all in the name of Journey, lugging around a tumor the size of a small latrine— a carriage housing two women— one severely obese with cellulited swines as her thighs and the other a rather well-carved lady with a first class bosom, two smelly boys, forever fighting over a yellow spotted tarantula they caught two nights ago—”Let’s call him Spottie!”—”No, he shall be Sunset!”— and a wise-looking man whose chin birthed an impressive polar bear— maybe erratic and bipolar?— whipping my posterior whenever I decide to chase butterflies or stare deeply into the horizon— Where to? I never know. I don’t want to know. As long as the hills of juicy hay coupled with cold spring water lay before me every morning, I’m content. I’ve accepted my role on this god-forsaken Earth as the prime mode of transport and that Man, albeit cruel and noisy and smelly, are way better in counting than I will ever be. My brown coat is starting to gray— Oh hell no!— God-forbid I’m transmogrifying into… wise-looking man with his pet polar bear nestled under his chin— my color, my vibrance… a sojourn?— How is this possible!— I want to stay vibrant forever. I will stay vibrant forever. I will.