far

Poetry

Horseshoe

Matt Thomas
issue seven

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If a horseshoe
were not a thing
the shape would exist
as a trope for an opening
through bowed legs.
I often bow my legs
to allow the dogs to shoot through
on the way down the stairs
and I think
(and sometimes say),
‘be born, friends,
from one thing to the next.’
Which is the way
of the world
and of our minds
inhabiting bodies so that
they might resemble things
to other minds,
temporary
nouns for infinite shapes.