Bob Dornberg  © 2007 All Rights Reserved

Edgar & the Horses


At the horse track, of a Tuesday, Edgar
logs high-stakes bets. He’s happiest
in a pastoral setting.
                                He knows
women in the city, & knows them
biblically, but can’t forget her.
                                            Why she
left. Desire, their lack of it, I
want my hair red with it
, she said.
                                                    Then left.
Outside their house, the sick tree sags
with crabapples, suitable only for sauce.

What was their house.


Otherwise pastoral their house a sick yellow under a tree. Red, I want it red she said.
Each morning their exits biblical their fights for God stakes but neither wins this

is their house.

In the neighbor’s pasture the neighbor’s horse noses the fallen crabapples & Edgar wants
to see her face behind its neck


Back at the track Edgar wins big
on a horse named Boutros—

in all the time she never gave him
a nickname
                                                        Edgar don’t
                                                          be so servile

his name only
                                                        you spend too much money

at night
she said it more lowly—
                                                        on your fucking horses
the horses
pound the turf

                                                        you once made me want to steal
                                                        what I wasn’t given

& then stand, panting
                                                        & sometimes still

Christine Walsh
Copyright © 2007


Christine Walsh lives and works in Seattle, where she is an MFA student at the University of Washington.

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