Piker Press β€” Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Bestiary

"...I know an arrow comes into it somewhere..."

Bestiary

It was a horse of a different colour.
I don’t know why of course.
Have I heard this before? Or was I
thinking of: Ride a pale horse?

Or: Behold a pale horse?
A centaur is half-horse,
upper body buffed,
the pony parts unbroken.

I know an arrow comes
into it somewhere, a myth
is nothing without fletching
and flex or even token flu-flu.

Who knew? Now we know
everything. Everyone knows
everything. That leaves little
for the sponge to process.

The centaur is crosseyed.
Does that mean a bad thing?
Can they bear the thought
of corrective eyewear?

And so we gallop across
the white page like ants
would if they were
tiny blinking centaurs.







Article © Salvatore Difalco. All rights reserved.
Published in the May 6, 2024 issue .
Image(s) are public domain.
More by Salvatore Difalco → More poetry → Full issue →
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