Phoebe Gilmore
Giddy up leather filly
there’s no use in lying
down like a dead book
our appointment
opens me to the hills
the secret once found
is grainy and black
buried under gut
and a disposable mini-
skirt of blue paper
doctor in the field
give me an answer
clear and thick as cold
lubrication so I may slip
prescription into my filly’s
mouth a brilliant metal
knocking against teeth
when I squeeze left
and right dig my spurs
into her bloated belly
knickerless animal on
animal when home
I’ll sleep off the long ride like
shrugging out of a winter coat
Phoebe Gilmore is a poet based in London. Her poems have appeared in Propel Magazine, Seaford Review, and Lineage, and she was shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize 2024.