Dear Mary,

By Jordan Cobb

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            for M.F.C. 


In Kentucky, my nephew stares 
out the window from his carseat, 
hand pressed to the glass, capturing 

a polaroid of the pasture as we drive 
parallel to the thoroughbreds, their manes 
a flurry under the bluegrass sun. 

He points, "Neigh Neighs,"
his own voice barely pitched 
stronger than a whinny, 

as if the car, engine thick 
with horsepower, or I, 
two hands on the wheel, 

need the onomatopeia 
to understand the animals, 
their importance to him. 

Once home, unbuckled, 
he sprints like a warrior 
up the concrete porch, 

heaving open the screen door 
in his excitement to make it 
to the living room 

where his Fisher-Price barn lives 
with all its plastic horses, 
their hearts, like his, big as melons. 

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Jordan Cobb (she/her) is a queer American poet. Based in NYC, she completed her MSc in Creative Writing at the University of Edinburgh. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Shore, jmww, The Storms Journal, Rise Up Review, Jet Fuel Review, Camas, Cherry Tree, The Columbia Journal, The Account, Does It Have Pockets, Outskirts, Fugue Journal, and The McNeese Review. She is @on_the_cobb on Instagram.

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