Mustang Sally
rode her steed
best she knew how
side saddle
backwards
breach
more often though
than not
she was ridden
hard steady swift
like December morning
breaths--in and
out of the lungs--pushed
into low hanging
frost bitten skies
steam ordered into
water lockstepped
into ice hydro-
planing in plain
view of everyone
she knew
when Sally rode
she broke barriers
of sound, branch and
twig, murder and that
place, that place that
hovers just before murder
Sally held herself tighter
than a tumbler of gin, drove
whatever she rode like
there was no
tomorrow hoped
that there wasn't
and when Sally tore through
town like her virgin dressing
gown the folk just shook
their heads side to side, sucked
their teeth, whispered poo-pooery
none too silently
never once warning her
to slow down.
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