Country Music
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Jennifer H. Fortin


from We Lack in Equipment & Control


The dreams of animals & women waive the obscene. & men? My last bleeds into industry. The band of horses I pretend to be in charge of & I, we hope to be an exception to the policy we guess into you. Friction need not be repealed. As long as you want my most green horse, my most real, take my horse blanket, run edited temperature. I'll lead her to your room & leave her, you asleep as calorie. We throw around calories like they are physical entities, not units. Emergency organizations are not accepting donations. People with everything taken: basic needs can be forgiven. There's a type of knot you need to know if you can be found crouching near fetlocks, stunned by unmitigated flexion. If you respond to sweated shying away. Persuade my meals into three dimensions. If, whatever you're astride, I am drenched. The knot is willing to negate itself—a visual effect—to resolve a brittle spooked.


Jennifer H. Fortin responds to art, economics, and Country Music not paying her for her poems.