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High Horse

High Horse

  • About
  • The Golden Corral
  • Whinnies and Neighs
  • Make A Sacrifice
  • T Paulo Urcanse Prize For Literary Excellence
  • Laramie Legend and Brain Sweat’s Nick McDill

    If you don’t know Nick from his countless alter-egos and endless multimedia projects (like the one where he pretended to work at Ridley’s for a really long time and then they actually hired him; or that one time when he was always reading Herman Hesse and talking about glass beads; or that one time where he stole my girlfriend; or when he bought all of those kids snow cones for NO REASON AT ALL; or most importantly – his BADASS band, Brain Sweat) do I have a treat for you today. Often blurring the lines of reality and performance, Nick lives his art. He is cold blooded with his art and Nick has been kind enough to offer up some of his words and poetry to the High Horse…

    Please enjoy and pass along. He is a serious poet with depth and experience. And if you get a chance to check out his band, Brain Sweat, do yourself a favor and ENJOY. They put on a hell of a show.


    Milk Legs

    We never really knew
    If he was fucking with us
    Or was just lost
    To the daze
    As one does
    Especially in those days
    Who knows how long 
    until he left that roof
    Running
    From imaginary cops
    I still don’t know
    What that shit
    We were smoking was
    Lost in the Grey haze legal loopholes
    Of the time
    It was carried
    On an apothecary’s
    Wish list
    Of plants
    They want to exist
    I do know 
    what we were told
    But never trust a junky
    In a monkey suite
    
    The rails had razor blades
    Painted into the banisters
    Hasty upkeep clawing
    The company kept
    Egregious and cloying
    And lost
    Still on that roof
    
    The descent was two half staircases 
    And a year disappeared
    Past the pantry
    Made bedroom
    Past the empty
    Bourbon gurgled handles
    To where the violated light
    No longer sleeps
    
    That’s where 
    the catnip smoker lurks
    Sticky with rust and a lust 
    For your iron lungs
    A man cannot live 
    on smoke alone
    And he’ll take the rest
    From you
    
    You’ll lose your legs
    As helping hands
    Hold you down
    Before the debauched bacchanal
    Can begin again
    More tinder 
    For the fire
    Tinkerers
    Toying with the tools
    Of the trade
    Tinfoil
    And duct tape
    
    Where the door is always open
    To whomever
    Come
    Who may
    Who comes to play
    We can use the company
    And everything else 
    That misery loves
    

    Restless

    I should probably pack
    Or sleep
    Or rest a weary mind
    I wonder 
    how many dogs 
    have bitten off their own tails
    Instead

    Stray

    Tried to buy happiness from a box
    And I wanted my money back
    The shops locked up
    They sold their stock
    I thought maybe the ground 
    Would go better
    But it’s closed for construction
    Couldn’t possibly take another
    The pollen park
    Says no pets
    So i pissed on it
    And left
    Time to see if the video is game
    To soothe an anxious brain

    Before the after

    Sometimes she sleeps
    Sometimes she is still
    She only cries behind her eyes now
    As she tries to sing
    Hope to sleep
    To stay

    Restless no. 3

    It is both a triumph
    And a deep sorrow
    To watch your name
    Fade from my most contacted list


    Split

    Look at the stars
    All the stars
    She exclaimed
    To me
    And the mountain night
               I tried to catch them
               Just for you
    As you sung
    Their drunk, inspiring
    Shadows into the sky
                 I never did catch a one though
    Or quite heed your call
    The glory of the world
                   Instead
                   I fell
    Finding solace
    In return tales
    Of adventure
    Met at the family gatherings
                     Not much to show
                     Save
                     Tales
    Sacrilege and sorrow
    Mixed successes in uncaring nights
    Drug addled or sex drunk
    Bleeding heads 
    with numb gums
                   And gifts from your time
                   With the foot sniffer
                    In felony flats
                   Where they never asked your name
                    And cashed the rent checks
                    All the same
    Gunshots through clouds
    Of intoxication
    For step daughter
    Friendly fraternization
                  And artists met and read
                  Enough to make a soul soar
                  And feet so very weary
    Dear sister
    I wish i could touch 
    The wonder
    That you unwound
    That night
    

    Nick McDill has been writing poetry for about as long as he's been able to write. He was born and raised in Casper, WY and currently lives in Laramie- where he continues to contribute to the local arts community in whatever way he can. He is also a musician and an actor. He can be seen doing a little bit of both with his band, Brain Sweat (playing TONIGHT at THE LAIR in LARAMIE, WYOMING) 
    
    
    September 17, 2023

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