"Not Horses".
What I adore is not horses with their modern domestic lifespan
of 25 years.
What I adore is a bug that lives only one day, especially
if it's a terrible day, a day of train derailment or chemical
leak or cop admits to cover up.
A day when no one thinks of anything else least
of all that bug.
I know how it feels, born as I've been into these rotting
times as into sin.
Everybody is busy, so distraught they forget to kill me,
and even that won't keep me alive.
I make my home not with horses but with a little dog who
sees poorly at dusk and menaces stumps,
makes her muscle known to every statue.
I wish she could have one single day of language,
so that I might reassure her.
Don't be afraid.
Our whole world is dead and so can do you no harm.
I'm going to skip ahead a little bit in the book.