Published by Snapping Turtle Press 2012
My role as slave
in your story
leaves me no words
to swallow.
I gave my losses a chance
and stayed on my horse
called Fatigue.
When the earth parched
this wretched heat spell
it bleached my hair
curled my tongue
until I bled your song.
I carry my damage,
inside every blue vein.
I’ve inherited poisons
of the finest flavours
and I don’t mind the shame.
The foam of the river
shapes into horses
that spew salt in frustration
corroding the mountains,
grinding the world into pebbles.
And in this sand
the women wander in circles
smelling the pheromones.
The cracks in the ground
they call me by the same name
that echoes and marks me
a brand for an eternity.
Loyally standing by my mare
called Failure
I’ve not a whisper to drink.
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