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The Impulsive Type
por
Glass Hammer
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Through the fields he ran on a sunny day Through the woods he jogged along his weary way Toward the battle line he charged straight into the fray They say he was the impulsive type It never occurred to him to factor his momentum There was no time to think of anything For the plunge was everything Yes the plunge was everything The act of acceleration, blunt force trauma, max velocity He was poetry in motion Or a blur if you werеn't paying attention There arеn't many left of his kind We'll just wait at the finish line Though he's likely not to stop No he's likely not to stop Through the fields he ran on a sunny day They say he is the impulsive type He plunged like a bayonet into life's yielding flesh "Full steam ahead" the cliched mantra of his kind They erupt with speed but they burn out fast As gravity prevails They're slowing down, all grows quiet No Homeric-hymn for this Hermes His deeds too few to reckon
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