Podium Hopes

Para mutual relay race
Often ends on twisted ankles
Mississippi River finish

Photo op, fine way to end this –
Sore loser, I am, always
Have been, since about the age of ten


Used a donkey running partner –
Used a tactic seen by many
Of sprinting naked
To help you chase me

Kept a journal, miles upon miles
Then my donkey, I had to bury.


Unilateral biopsy
Of my heart shows a scarcity of
Patience, a penchant for hard love & existence
Of six,

Rather than four valves –
Pushing away the men – running them off
Like a marathoning Kenyan.


I run into tape again again
Appearing first, but sensing last
My place for a medal on the podium

As skill for
Running into walls head first
Bypass my expectations
And hope, hissing like cats; the
Dogged falling down again

On normal oil asphalt: my final
black tar bed.


Former sinecure apprentice: now,
Just a flat-faced,
Loser guard.

Photo Credit: Joey Z1 Flickr via Compfight cc

Elisabeth Horan

Elisabeth Horan is a poet mother student lover of kind people and animals, homesteading in Vermont with her tolerant partner and two young sons. She writes to survive and survives to write - We are all battling something. Let's support each other. Elisabeth enjoys riding horses and caring for her cats, chickens, goats and children (not necessarily in that order). She teaches at River Valley Community College in New Hampshire.

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