strategically—past
stagger-
ed
battalions
of orange-
glaring traffic
cones under
new Monday sun—
my old
trusty gold
horse is
purring
and
perfect-
ly
beaming—so happy and
quick after
down days
to
zoom me
so
fast fast fast
fast! past the motion-
less
past—
which sounds now
only just
like so much
wind gushing
in from her flung-
open
body of
orifices laughing.
