ARIZONA ACHE

     by Bates Corlieu

at 70 miles per hour my big gray pony bangs through Apache
dry as crisp brown toast
dried up like our skins and pocketbooks
like our hearts     tiny taut drums choked with dust

far away Gray Malkin eats her beautiful sparrow breakfast
its heart still beating in her mouth
because she won it thinks she owns it
like you have me     and aims to keep it