I lean my brow against
taut, woven rope.
Square board presses on
my thighs, flesh overflowing
from edges of a too
small swing.
I am riding bareback,
a roan beauty.

Stale wind whips
over my body.
I lean further
over iron water
sliding across the bottom
of a bloated canal.
I am hanging from a streaming star,
over the edge

I hear yelling across
vast expanse of graying grass
leading up to yellow brick house.
I hear the beetle black dog barking.
I am anywhere. Anywhere else.

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