an equestrian riding a dog

only once it

dries do fish

notice water

*

organs

sing a note

of health and reorganization

of my body towards it

without me remembering

that there is no better job

at reshuffling

than cancer

*

i imagine the first

time someone said hello

the receiver felt

just as sad to

have to invent

a way to say

goodbye

*

if my body

is a machine

it must’ve been made

before the industrial age

cracking

moaning

like a horse carving fields

under the whip of the sun

and the son of a whip