"MY HORSE, SIMILE" by CRISPY

My horse, Simile, dreaming of fresh mown hay, standing up. I mean, she imagines that she is standing up in it, and dreaming.

My horse: doesn’t realize I know nothing of horses. I can’t communicate that well (to a horse.) you can probably guess why.

My horse: is too fast. I mean, too fast for me. I am scared that I am going to die, on my horse. well, falling off my horse specifically.

I admire those who are able to move a horse around with a little slap or a click of the tongue and they respond. Especially a woman who can do that. Especiallyif she is wearing Wrangler jeans. or if she is taking Wrangler jeans off and saying it’s about time you and I had sex to me and the horse is safely put away in one of those stalls for horses.

Alas, I am sitting nearby eating an apple not wanting to die from a kick to the head from a horse. Or perhaps, better yet, I am not.