photo by Jeff Reutter

It’s not so bad once you get used to it—
August’s algal bloom on the farm’s
manure lagoon

edulcorates the smell at least with
avocado green. I like the way peaches
slide from a can

in this diner, and these regulars who
get to see a metaphor solidify outside:
six yellow hazmat suits

up from the city slog through shit.
Let’s pray she isn’t in there. God
I hope it wasn’t him—

That guy who knew how to handle
your horse and its ineffable
difficulties.