All in Your Head

Might as well be unicorns and wizards’ hair:
these cowpokes pertain to the same

fantasy gumbo. Put a toothbrush
in your suitcase. You might end up

in Oz for a fortnight or better. The swish
of a horse’s tail as it beats off the flies,

the tinny clink of spurs ajingle on its flanks –
they’re all just a part of your imagined experience,

the safe distance from the one-man job
of being real. You go to blazes. The misogynist

sends his love, his pregnant affectations.
All of these and more will be yours

when reality hits its last speed bump, when
the world as no one knew it is all that there is.