A Steed Indeed
My teacher had 4 legs
And cared not for me
We watch bulls and bull riders and I always said I would hold on
How hard could it be?
Oh, I held on alright
And then flew through the air like the flying trapeze
You saddle up
What does that mean?
What do you saddle?
Fucking horse power my friend
And then you hit the ground
And they say “Get back on the horse again…”
Are you fucking naive?
My teacher looked down upon me as I laid upon the ground,
when one looks down upon you, you can only look up
I learned, I understood respect….and I listened for the first time
Now the hand that held the bridle so tight, is bridled in it’s own fashion
My teacher chooses to run when others would trot along
When she says to me, “Do not get back on the saddle again, listen!”
I do not hold on
I run wild and free
more by JULIE MAYA PANDA
Photograph by Ryan McGuireHire An Editor