Your stepdad’s in Intensive, horizontal, hooked to tubes. He won’t even know we’re there. But we set out anyway, past the neighbors’ bay gelding pacing his paddock – horse that’s never known a halter, never been led out into fresh green morning. Forgotten steed. He whinnies, pricks his ears, listens to the herd in free pasture down the hill. His hooves have churned bare soil to mud. He does a one-horse dance against his fence. This first Saturday in May – Derby day, a fleet field of colts and fillies – but there’s no chance the hospital will be tuned to paddock-parade at the Downs. I need to see horses running. Look at this solitary gelding. Snuffle against his muzzle. Slip onto his back. Muscles slack – let’s kick. Remember how to lip-flick a latch – the gate hangs open on its hinge. May means spring. - Taylor Graham Placerville, CA USA firstname.lastname@example.org
Goats give the lowest fat milk to drink and eat processed into white acrid cylinders, they may take all sorts of shapes such as smoked stones, ash powered dungs. A sharp knife slices a roll of cheese, a white, creamy patch keeps stuck on its blade. I lick it carefully my craving tongue avoids the cut of the metal carving tool in my hand. With my fingers I pick up the slice: a thin white washer pure as snow, I could bleat as I eat this tiny titbit but I hum and I my tongue spits saliva outside my mouth, on the verge of my lips.
Ancient Heart Magazine is here again! Now based in Sydney, Australia. After a number of years of publication I decided a while ago to give it a miss. But, poetry being poetry, I couldn't keep away and now here we are again; all new and bright and fresh. In a slightly different format, namely that of the blog.
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Ancient Heart Magazine P.O. Box 953 Gladesville NSW 2111 Australia
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