A Gift Horse

By TIMOTHY LIU

Her hands kept on
working their way

into my pants even

after the wedding
toast—the evening

merely an excuse

for a gift horse
crashing through

the stables of a barn

a midget had set
on fire, my mother

clothed in nothing

but safety matches
struck on her teeth

as she colored in

my moon with pieces
of broken chalk—

 

[Purchase Issue 12 here.]

Timothy Liu’s most recent book of poems is Don’t Go Back to Sleep. He met his husband-to-be while sprawled out drunk on Dickinson’s grave more than two decades back. And that has made all the difference.

 

A Gift Horse

Related Posts

Image of an orange cupped in a hand

May 2023 Poetry Feature: New Poems by Our Contributors

TIMOTHY DONNELLY
Thorn-blossom! Tender thing, prone to solitude / like yours truly, don’t get it twisted if I reach out my hand— / it isn’t to pluck you, who are my beacon down this path, but a gesture / of acknowledgment common among my kind. / When the lukewarm breezes nod off

Red Lanterns in Night Sky

On Wariness

MYRONN HARDY
There is rhythm on the pavement. / There is rhythm in small / apartment rooms. / I’m over slicing tomatoes. / I’m over drinking wine. / I’m performing as not to be / deformed     as not / to show what I shouldn’t. / I don’t want to feel everything.