Gwyneth Paltrow Hates Horses
And I think I hate them myself sometimes, 
the way they despise being ridden, the way 
they swing their hulking heads to look at us. 
A horseman to his horse—Sidney wrote— 
a horse to Love. Oh, the things I have wanted 
to control— this daily avalanche or applause 
filling my tin cup. My dog, the mail carrier, 
and their mutual disdain. The bottle feeder 
kitten I stuffed into a jar my mother opened 
just in time. And you, naked and nodding 
off in a La-Z-Boy, the front door wide open. 
I want to say something emphatic, the way 
a celebrity might, but all I have are stories. 
I shook you harder after you woke.
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