Two horses work past me on the road

Two horses work past me on the road
and don’t mind whipping from the man.
They only run together, the left turned inward to the right,
the right one leaning left, to comfort, to remind confusion.

Are you old? Do you know Prague’s smells?
Do you know the boats full pass?
Do you watch, filled with families on the river?

Early man, early morning loving sun,
at a very bad and horrid man, at a bird
and a very good and man at looking,
I’m striking.

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