Self-Help for Horses*

By Safia Jama
Mostly I was jealous of their hats.
The jaunt of them.

The way they said nothing
To no one in particular.

Felt. Wool. Whatever.

His bowler,
Tipped way back.

Her derby & lace.

I miss the whores upstairs,
Braiding my hair.

I get stolen again,
And again.

Shots all around
In my dreams.
Safia Jama is a Cave Canem graduate fellow, born to a Somali father and an Irish-American mother in Queens, New York. Her poetry appears in RHINO, BOMB, Boston Review, and Muftah Magazine. Her manuscript was a semi-finalist in the Pleiades Press Editors Prize for Poetry.

“Each line, each textured utterance of “Self-Help for Horses” punctuates the air of its small space like the shots of its landscape, jarring me to some fresh conviction.” — Nicole Higgins

*”Self-Help for Horses,” first appeared in our original publication, Toe Good Poetry.