PLASTIC HORSES

                    We learn to live without passion.
                    To be reasonable. We go hungry
                    amid the giant granaries
                    this world is.
                              – Jack Gilbert (“The Danger of Wisdom”)

Stark and efficient waiting room,
two plastic stick horses to occupy
children—one pink, one blue.

No ears, no eyes, no manes or tails,
seven smooth and hollow cylinders
molded to stand for a rider

or to wrestle out of the corner
back to the young hen
pecking on her cell phone.

No one seems to notice: not
the thin, distinguished gentleman,
not the gray goatee next to me,

not the woman in a shower cap,
nor the tight biceps in a T-shirt,
all pecking in fields beyond

the clatter and commotion
they ignore. Still fasting
and willing to pay in blood

to get along this far from home—
I want my coffee ready to ride
whatever goes right or wrong.

“The Danger of Wisdom”