The horse mounted the mirror profoundly. He was profoundly disengaged by his weight.
Nothing is forgotten by horses except a very long while. Then I think exactly my weight is a profoundly long while. I think I know what’s changed, things made up of profoundly horse-marked disengagement. I think I know what we have become. What we have become is a profoundly long while.
About clairedonato
Claire Donato lives and writes in Brooklyn, NY. Her poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in the Boston Review, Black Warrior Review, Fou, and Harp & Altar. She is the author of a chapbook, Someone Else's Body (Cannibal Books 2009). Claire graduated from the University of Pittsburgh in 2008 and is currently completing an MFA in Literary Arts at Brown University.
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