A pony in the field,
I am this one’s submissive at my prancing best,
broken and proud of it.
I make the decisions.
On all fours, I make things happen.
I am held and can throw.
A human at first encounter,
this one is my dominant, shook and bold.
This one wants to be told, wants to be
sold down the river in the little gray boat
of a father’s suicide, a mother’s cups.
Our species likes a stay-the-same life,
and from here rises all samsara, mist in the pasture.
The sand bar off the Cape, the old-growth forest–
the dunes, the green canopy, the thin prairie grasses—
the glacier, the mountaintop—
Amy’s brown rock wall on the shore, Baudrillard’s desert—
going going gone
Arielle Greenberg is co-author of Home/Birth: A Poemic; author of My Kafka Century and Given; and co-editor of three anthologies, including Gurlesque. She lives in Maine and teaches in the community and in Oregon State University-Cascades’ MFA, and writes a column on contemporary poetics for the American Poetry Review.