Mountainbout

A thock, a thundering of loose stone,
the rams lock calligraphic horns,
they rear like hammers, rail down
like knotty-legged Abaddons.

The rams lock calligraphic horns,
each planted on a rocky throne.
Like knotty-legged Abaddons,
cracking gamely, fiercely on.

Each planted on a rocky throne,
but - what? - A cyclist! Bones like urns!
Cracking gamely, fiercely on.
His wheels are knocked. He overturns.

Poor old cyclist. Bones like urns.
They rear like hammers, rail down,
His wheels are socked. He overturns.
A thock, a thundering of loose stone.