by Shannon Townsend
High on a horse, a mustang, a stallion,
You jump the fence, to a field, a road,
You wrap the reigns around your wrists and forearms,
Go baby go, you rush, you rave.
Hurl the ball, push the field,
a beauty, an Amazon, a heroine.
Always merciful, always proud,
In every game you’re making art.
Play the guitar, sing me a song?
Buy new gel pens, write me a poem?
Quote some Ani, burn me a cd?
Run shirtless, take off mine?
Your brother Ram likes drugs.
Your sister Virgin like the quiet.
Your momma Scorpio pushes paint.
Your papa…only shows his back.
Driven by constellations,
you’d rather sleep and dream,
than push work and play.
The universe caters to you.
It’s a nice world of unicorns and fairies;
ignore the pain, ignore the strain.
Always standing solid,
unless I push you.