Like most nouns, I love horses
from a theoretical distance. Up close, they terrify me.
My thoughts turn fleshy. My friend’s horse ripped
her hair from her scalp as a girl, thinking it hay.
Like a wheel crushing a foot, who could blame
the horse for having no depth of metaphor,
only an automatic sense of knowing what it wants.
My friend wore her bald spot all over her face.
This is my favourite one of these I’ve done! Gift for a friend, a tyrannotaur made from plastic toys. Experimenting with using a mixture of cornstarch and PVA glue to fill in the gaps.
I am the friend and I stubbornly call it a centaursaurus because death of the author and she lives at my house
so anyway I just turned around to admire my centaursaurus and… something seems different
There are two sides to every coin and sometimes you can’t
show the internet both sides bc you need to wait until the friend you gave the
first side to has it in their house and then swap the second side with it and
see how long it takes them to notice (several days) but here’s the tyrannotaur
and the dinosorse together pals for life
There’s someone who has their iPhone named “hot single horses in your area” and they airdrop people pictures of horses randomly. Nobody knows who it is. Once, during an assembly, the laptop that the projector was from had airdrop turned on, and in the middle of a presentation about bullying, it popped up in front of the entire school.
HOT SINGLE HORSES IN YOUR AREA WANTS TO SHARE AN IMAGE.
A picture of a horse, with text in bubble letters over it saying “available”
Winter, image of age, who like a great belly Eats up the whole year’s substance and heartlessly Swallows the fruit of our unstinted labor, Had gone into hiding deep below the earth. For Spring had arrived and driven him under. Spring Source of the world’s life and glory of the year, Had returned, and was wiping away the ugly traces Of greedy winter and restoring to ailing fields Their former loveliness.
A purer air was now beginning to herald Fine weather. Plants stirred in the zephyr’s path Thrusting out from their roots the slender tips Which had long lain hidden in the earth’s blind womb, Shunning the frost they hate. Spring smiled In the leaves of the woodland, the lush grass on the slopes And the bright sward of the cheerful meadows.
But this little patch which lies facing east In the small open courtyard before my door Was full—of nettles! All over My small piece of land they grew, their barbs Tipped with a smear of tingling poison.
What should I do? So thick were the ranks That grew from the tangle of roots below, They were like the green hurdles a stableman skillfully Weaves of pliant osiers when the horses’ hooves Rot in the standing puddles and go soft as fungus.
So I put it off no longer. I set to with my mattock And dug up the sluggish ground. From their embraces I tore those nettles though they grew again and again. I destroyed the tunnels of the moles that haunt dark places, And back to the realms of light I summoned the worms.
Then my small patch was warmed by winds from the south And the sun’s heat. That it should not be washed away, We faced it with planks and raised it in oblong beds A little above the level ground. With a rake I broke the soil up bit by bit, and then Worked in from on top the leaven of rich manure.
Some plants we grow from seed, some from old stocks We try to bring back to the youth they knew before.
There’s someone who has their iPhone named “hot single horses in your area” and they airdrop people pictures of horses randomly. Nobody knows who it is. Once, during an assembly, the laptop that the projector was from had airdrop turned on, and in the middle of a presentation about bullying, it popped up in front of the entire school.
HOT SINGLE HORSES IN YOUR AREA WANTS TO SHARE AN IMAGE.
A picture of a horse, with text in bubble letters over it saying “available”
“In Ultima Online, the player was a container — one you couldn’t open, but which held your equipped items, your backpack which was the container you could actually see, etc. Because of the freeform “gump” style containment system used in the Ultimas, you could position anything to any location in a container, which meant they were basically treated like maps, with coordinate systems in them. Then we added mounts. When you rode a horse, we simply put the horse inside the player, and spawned a pair of pants that looked like your horse, which you then equipped and wore. When we first did this, however, we forgot to make the horse stop acting like a horse. Pretty soon there was a rash of server crashes because the horse inside the player was wandering around, picking up the stuff it found inside the player, rifling through the player’s backpack and eating things it thought were edible, and eventually, wandering “off the map” because the player’s internal coordinate system was pretty small, and the edges weren’t impassable.”
must a sport be entertaining to watch? 