"Deciphering the Oracle" by Annie Frazier
perhaps mothers of diapered babies
do this too: examine each new shit produced.
the horse was sick last week. miles
of tangled intestines stalled & stilled. stagnant.
so here i am, bending & peering into the miracle
pile he’s just made, searching for meaning
like a priest of delphi straining to interpret garbled nonsense
uttered by the writhing girl inhaling noxious vapors.
gazing at this fresh turd, awaiting mystic predictions,
i’m partly the priest but i am the girl too
& always there’s a fear that really i’m the bedraggled farmer,
tossing one last clinking fistful of gold into the pot,
desperate for a better forecast this time around.