Stieglitz Horses
for Sonia Farmer

our hips and hands
your crotch and mine
press of sweetness

express ourselves
until we could express no more
until we were spent
every fucking red cent

I’d smell you then
I’d have you then
inside my nostrils
to carry home

horse snorts,
shakes its head, its mane
something on its mind
it wants to get rid of

something unpleasant
it wants to forget

forget-me-nots
against the chilly winter
against the white snow falling
upon the streets of New York

as if for Stieglitz
to take a picture of

horses in the cold
wet streets of winter
tied to the human race
are they happy to be

as happy as I am
tied as I am
as you are
to me


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
2:17 a.m. 05.01.08