Horses cry real tears
Horses sleep standing up
They signal to me
With their broom-like tails
A tiny system of telephones running between us
To trot is to walk quickly on your legs
Horses can have smaller horses inside them
Those are called ponies!
The stomach essentially being a vestibule
Means we all have to wait outside
The first pony ever was named Thumbelina
After the girl in the Black Forest who was grown from a seed
A horse, like a twin bed, wears a blanket through winter
Horses and ponies have six stomachs each
A constant trembling of the forehead
Signals an obedient pony
When a pony is dying, everything around it seems to speak
Flies collect like flies in a jar
For a long time now, the world has hung in peripheral darkness
Like a horse wearing blinders
All you can see is your feet
how did this poem begin for you?I wasn’t a “horse girl” growing up; I’ve never ridden a horse, and sometimes I feel like I’ve never even seen one. But I’ve always been interested in miniature versions of things. This poem came about from genuinely not knowing the difference between horses and ponies, and deciding to never find out. At a thrift store, I bought a pamphlet called
Quiz Questions for the Pony Club, which is a highly amusing book of equestrian trivia aimed at young people looking to memorize, essentially, pony facts. Just flipping around was fun, but I couldn’t seem to retain anything I learned. It made me remember being in elementary school and reading a Scholastic magazine article about a pony named Thumbelina, and only later did I hear “Thumbelina,” the fairy tale. I love the feeling of not knowing something but still having a lot to say. This poem is what came out.