for Max, Josh, Joy, Kevin, and all my friends in Ohio
I’m growing a ponytail, so I have something to cut
off and throw in the Ohio River.
Headed back to the Midwest, I’m trailing
a Roadrunner-style dust billow
through this nation’s belly, not a scar; although,
I think my body’s a razor the same way
I think language is a horse with two
mouths. One mouth says yes and the other mouth says
yes a little louder. Those you love
must flourish without you. The pain of this
is I’m a part of everyone, but I am four
hooves herding departure. I’ve been
on a bulking phase to better resemble the horse
inside me. I want the sinew with the coat
on top soft as snow, then to be stroked
until I’m water. In the game of I’ll-play-
one day we can evaporate into the same cloud,
or shift our weight until the land buckles
to our confluence. Horses know well of reunions,
yet, always into the sunset strides our hero:
silhouette surrendering into shimmer.
But everything left behind, you take
with you. The horse needs you,
so come wanting the rest of the future.
We’ll go together.