Friday, December 05, 2008

It's a glitterpony

You probably gotta see this:

This poem took all of three lines to become one of my favorites this year. Svalina has a knack for capturing the simultaneous wonder, terror and violence of childhood. And this poem might be the exemplar. I think I'm going to name my battle steed Exemplar. I will say, "Exemplar, come to me!" And he will. And I will mount him. And I will grab a weapon stuck in the ground, maybe mine, maybe not. And I will ride. Just ride. Until my thighs get all hivey and swollen because of an acute allergy to horse hair (did I mention that I would ride bare back?). I will then dismount and look awkwardly around because I've got a bad rash and this weapon that I really don't know what to do with. And then I will think of this poem and fall asleep next to my steed Exemplar, but at a safe allergen distance. And it will be a good, deep sleep.

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