i don’t know anything about horses. pet the bus w/ your breath.
window, go, it’s me. runs like new. what does love want from me.
before standard time a horse beat a train called “tom thumb” in
a race, 1830. train broke down under moon, horse had no name—
that's time. old pain, moon, round and round. the horse’s eyes
roll back, run away. my mother’s last name is west, it’s empty.
she escaped it, laboring for everyone after her father lost his job
at quaker rubber, drank himself to nothing. we could reinvent the
whole disaster. my car is parked outside. i was born on february
42nd. i sat way in the back of the horse’s mouth for twelve years
w/ my heart on fire. the future means no. the rest is history
i will rip apart w/ you.