Description of a Badly Drawn Horse
The horse’s head looks more like the butt end
of an oar, squared off and wooden the way an animal’s is not.
Its mane is mangy; the mouth toothy; one white eye is wild.
The legs tangle at wrong angles and the body seems short.
This was a horse to shoot, but I sharpened my pencil instead,
and returned to my seat. Astride the beast, with hands like clouds
and checkered shirt, is a boy—not whipping his horse,
battering its belly with shiny spurs, or scouting the dusty plains
and bluffs for a good leap-off place. He’s smiling terribly.
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About the Author
Daniel Johnson’s first book of poetry, How to Catch a Falling Knife, is due this May. He lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
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