Horse Race of Dawn

Kadinsky, Composition VII (1913)

White, white sparkling wine of the morning sun...

Last glass before the blinding, bubbling light 

For one long lost and gone,
The Prodigal son who gambled and drank away
Every cent of merit he was meant to live on.

Drunkenly staggering through fields of wildflowers,

Flowers like derby horses, the stamp of the sun's steeds

Blazing through them, flowers and steeds
Called to the post by a bugle blast of rising sun,

Charging madly from the gates of dawn
To chug all-out, eight furlongs long,
Afoam and multi-chrome as they reach the bottle's sudsy end.

A morning-after revery 

With senses massively deranged by journeys
Into hallucinatory lands distant and strange.



Inside a crowd of wildly shouting hills and dales,

His head spinning and ringing,

Our prodigal lays down in a daze
And places a bet,
His last dollars wagered on just a hunch
Reaching drunkenly to pick a bunch
Of wildflowers whose names he hasn't the slightest idea of.

Which cantering steed shall it be whose fortune blossoms today?
Phantom of Hope, My Chimera, Unicorn's Deception,
Or Bottle of Smoke?
No, nor those named after strong drink:
Red-Red Wine, Double Shot, Bubbling Flute, Bad Whiskey.
Ah, those of flowers! Hazy Daisy, Fields Of Lavender, My Blue Rose.
Ah, My Blue Rose. Yes!



This Last one!
The possibility of attaining that which seems impossible,
Even a way out of hell.

And a rampant wind in the meadow calls the race
As our prodigal soul listens, stretched out, inebriated.

"It's Hard Times Ahead straight out of the gate
Driven To Ruin, Gone So Wrong, with the jolly lock,
Tale of Defeat all coming together in a dead heat
Heading into the first turn with Last Stand closing
To half a length, Shadow of A Chance laying back by one
And My Blue Rose trailing behind by over four lengths ..."

With a blanket of clouds our prodigal soul falls asleep, comatose,
But birds rouse his ears
And our prodigal hears the booming, final call:
"The beginning of the backstretch, a four-way heat
"Hard Times Ahead by a hoof over Driven To Ruin
With Tale of Defeat in third and Gone So Wrong and Last Stand
Close behind, a half a length between them all with
Shadow of A Chance in sixth, but slipping back to 2 lengths
And My Blue Rose still in last and five lengths out."

And our prodigal soul nods out in despair
But still can hear...

"...down the homestretch, it's Tale of Defeat and Driven To Ruin
First and second with My Blue Rose making a late dash
Crossing at the fence past Shadow Of A Chance
And now past Last Stand, taking over fifth ...
It's Driven To Ruin and Tale of Defeat nose to nose,
With Hard Times Ahead in third
And My Blue Rose still pushing, My Blue Rose,
In a remarkable burst, past Gone So Wrong and into fourth
With Tale Of Defeat and Driven To Ruin, neck and neck,
And My Blue Rose, from out of nowhere,
The three huddled in a blanket finish
With My Blue Rose, the dark horse, firing,
Driven To Ruin, Tale of Defeat and My Blue Rose
In a dead heat, Driven To Ruin, My Blue Rose and Tale of Defeat
Hitting the finish and with a nod
It's My Blue Rose! Triumphant!
My Blue Rose! Eternally Victorious!
My Blue Rose! The Winner of the Infinite!"

Wander up and place the ultimate bet
And lean before all your stray hopes
As they hurtle from out of their gates,
And urge them on!
The flowers of impossibility and the darkest of horses
That race before you every day, oh my prodigal,
And you shall yet find your way home.
Pick 4, Pick 5 Flowers!
A Perfecta of dreams!
Watch as they charge toward glory
And let them Place, Show or Finish
In everything you do and say.
Find a flower and bet on it
And you'll find your place in the wager
Of all things earthly and beyond
No matter what, regardless of everything.