There was no doubt about it, <br />the horse was truly dead, <br />yet men with wads of dough <br />stood near the creature's shrunken head. <br /> <br />One could not really tell about the means, <br />there were some sticks, a hammer, even two <br />but what unfolded was a curious mix <br />of betting papers and the need to still subdue. <br /> <br />They beat the carcass mildly decomposed <br />until the feeling had embraced them all, <br />and when the cruel winter came and took <br />one of the Percherons they did not blink. <br />Perhaps it is the nature of humanity to press <br />the flesh of beauty into rotten stench of death.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beating-some-more/
