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.