Open Horse

 

Salvatore Difalco

 

 

 

 

I speak Italian to women, German to my horse—

komm schon, kleines Hündchen!

Not enough people know a healthy horse.

All you need for happiness is a horse.

Buying hay for a dead horse is Groucho Marx.

Was he capable of grooming his own horse?

Danger at both ends with a horse.

Jacqueline Kennedy was a saddle horse.

Be a decent person as simply as a horse runs,

and don’t worry about the horse being blind.

A horse is a thing of beauty.

No horse goes anywhere unharnessed.

A trotting ass is not a horse,

nor is a Greyhound Bus a horse—

Little Nog tried to feed it a carrot

while Big Nog leaned over to pet it.

Look at the horse beside you and lose.

Someone asked, “Were you born in a stable?”

Neigh for an answer and a hoof scuff.

A white horse in German is Shimmel.

The horse named Mortality rarely gets past the post;

the horse named Nag is somebody’s mother.

Is it ever okay to flog a dead horse? I ask you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Salvatore Difalco lives in Toronto, Canada.  His work has appeared in a number of journals including Café Irreal, The Gorko Gazette, Heavy Feather Review, and at ē·rā/tiō

 

 


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