ManicWorld Magazine

When finding that you are
unfairly hated
The solution I found
is to get yourself
Improperly vaccinated

History reeks
Curated and discovered and sometimes
From under rubble
Emerges hidden knowledge
Not the utilitarian and sanitised types
found at, say
a teacher training college
Horseback history is all you’ll find there
History sat high
and making clean histories into courses
Saddle back enforcing
Equine strength and baton wielding
To ensure you know this history
Is endorsed in
All your schooling

You will struggle to find you in there
And that is the point
Your Silence today
Comes from throat throttled yesterdays

It’s hard to make a stand
When your feet are dangled in shifting sand
When your dreams
Are left searching for places to wake
Even imagination is kettled
And all you have at night
Is mares
And stallions
Their cross breed loveless union
At the head of battalions
Do you remember horse,
the thoroughbred part of yer
that your lineage is Arab, Asia and North Africa?
Now you stand as part of a line in the solidifying sand
A cavalry building sand pits from dunes

When you find yourself at the foot of the hoof
Beneath the bridle
Sore but not from saddle
Remember this

When finding that you are
unfairly hated
The solution I found
is to get yourself
Improperly vaccinated

It exists

The vaccination to a group that hates yer
Not quite immunity
Certainly no impunity
But through music, movement, voice and being together
We can realise ourselves as people soon to be
A not-yet
But always there
The virus in the ecology of an eternal now
The billion year old fight for survival that resists
Petrification
Stone forged from sand
Where love is boiled alive until it becomes a nation
With a flag and crown
and a remit to put down
All
that stand in the way of
this historical reinvention
of better yesterdays
A Casino, club med solution
Charged through with equine retribution
From baton, to musket, to lance
Carpet bombing and a uranium tipped dance
It will be this way
and your only option
Is to create
It is never ever too late
To take over what is abandoned
To know that your response to a horse back kettle
Is drum

And bass
And song
Or walk, just move
Out the range of a history that is meant to eradicate
You
To sanitise and cleanse and inject you with bleach
A whitewashed utopian ‘before’
That is always out of reach
Because it never existed.
We have a history
It is in the blood
and the body and the connection
between us
It comes from the acts you take through love
Without any official validation
Where horses roam free
And so do we
Once we inject an
Improper vaccination