Never Be the Horse

Night upon night a horse stood in the husk crossing an ocean. It tried to dream upon the smell of damp oatseed its former geographical division the spongy field and the clop of a hoof Later came winds and a blanket thrown and a bearded rider swung up clicking his tongue there in the dark ark's gripe [i]or[/i] grip O they could see dirt roads by dint of the hundreds vaulted with tamarisks, the early springs, the breath-apples of winters. on the other hand where were they goingtwo sips wobbling in a stupendous goblet, pitched and yawed, the constant paradiddle of rain, doves shitting the rafters. The rider said a voice had promised upon the other side of water was a verdant prairie, horizon snug as a rib. And the horse thinking Never be the horse.God talks to. The waves reached a gallop just beneath them, reached the horizon and thinned to sweat, and still the horse slept upright in the ripe blackness. Or thus they assumed the deck passengers, sea-swallows archangels, cherubim, etc. Months later, a stone rose and low furzy branches. Then in each ankle a bell clapped for the mire

Beckian Fritz _s sum of two units books of poetry are material part Betrayer(1991) and In the Badlands of Desire (1993) the one and the other published by Cleveland State University. She teaches at Arbona State University.

Copyright World rhyme Incorporated Mar/Apr 1997

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