Mustangs of Samsara

In the beginning nothing comes  In the middle nothing is  In the end nothing goes                            - Milarepa in this samsara there are demi-animals which engender cowboys coiling lassos so they do not go feral like mustangs small dusty horse-anomalies in a mathematical function their feathertails seen in profile picking their way at dusk atop the cliffs causing rope & bullets to arise and in the new balance for the moment nothing more needs to arise nothing needs to fall but the small horses think they tumble think they hear a thud their hides abrade along the dirt they disappear new horses arise or things like horses horses that don't run off ropes go slender bullets are taken from rifles o anything will exist if needed for balance every horror every transcendence a horse-goddess aggregates in the play of quanta her cheeks are greek in their gravity > her neigh calls into being a cowboy- god and for another blinding moment nothing is coming nothing is being nothing is going /> . . .