Click the arrow on the audio player to?hear Dean Young read this poem. You can also download?the recording or?subscribe?to?Slate's Poetry Podcast on iTunes.
Saw an upside-down horse in a puddle.
Was a cloud playing a trick.
Saw a petrifying ruckus in the mud
where a devil lay face-down laughing
before being plucked up into the sun.
Such is our salvation: junco feathers
snagged in a rose bush. No need to look
for anything brighter, or darker. What
isn?t storm-pummeled into the dirt, shines.
Yesterday, drove by two workers hugging
in a field of watermelons. Looked like
it must have been a good year although
they probably irrigated like crazy.
I too am sick of instruction, my friend.
I?d say it?s fifty-fifty she?ll come back
and I don?t know the half of it.
You do the math. At the dog food store,
the bat wings look to be the first to sell out.
Apparently it?s not a good year
for fairy princesses, at least as far
as dog costumes go.
Source: http://feeds.slate.com/click.phdo?i=77a211b0e518352a5aea9639ad4c683d
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