A Love Supreme

You beautiful, broke-

back horse of my heart. Proud,

debonair, not quite there

in the head. You current

with no river in sight.

Current as confetti

after parades. You

small-town. Italian

ice shop next to brothels

beside the highway.

Sweet and sweaty. You high

as a kite coming

down. You suburban sprawled

on the bed. You dead? Not

nearly. Not yet.

“A Love Supreme” first appeared in Columbia: A Journal of Literature and Art, Spring 2005.