Amanda Auerbach
The Great Ones
The blond ponies trail everything behind them. Though I only see one now I know from
its assurance they come in clusters that do everything that’s quick not just tricks but also
things of substance that can be seen as quick as their glitter that keeps you from seeing
what else they are. This pony does not await my belief. It demands my breath. I can only
just get out: Gold! It is coming for its favored oats—it is coming for my hand—I can’t
keep myself away—it makes me stay.
Amanda Auerbach is a PhD candidate in English at Harvard. Her poems have appeared in The Paris Review, Web Conjunctions, and The Colorado Review.
Return to July 2017 Edition
The blond ponies trail everything behind them. Though I only see one now I know from
its assurance they come in clusters that do everything that’s quick not just tricks but also
things of substance that can be seen as quick as their glitter that keeps you from seeing
what else they are. This pony does not await my belief. It demands my breath. I can only
just get out: Gold! It is coming for its favored oats—it is coming for my hand—I can’t
keep myself away—it makes me stay.
Amanda Auerbach is a PhD candidate in English at Harvard. Her poems have appeared in The Paris Review, Web Conjunctions, and The Colorado Review.
Return to July 2017 Edition