Someone buy me
a horse.
Let him be bay or
black,
the only big, bad, slick
beast in the barn.
That bitch could jump
over circles. The people are
mere hoof prints,
and the rain lives on; hell,
look at the way
the wet sticks to the
ring sand.
I am one of the few
eating and sweeping
right now.
I am
betting on it.
-- C.A. MacConnell
