[Iceland, January 1998]
Icies call the trail
Legbreaker, where
Icie horses graze gorse,
Letting their shaggy brown cartoon
Heads bobble like
Promo dolls for Heisman candidates
Or Jim Henson puppets,
We hear
The horses have a gait
So smooth
You can place an axe-head on their backs,
A Singapore Sling on top that
And talk to your neighbors
As you ride past cairns
Piled with hollow bones
Stuffed with messages,
Of a thousand years of travelers
And maybe your companion
Hands you a skyr
Or whale blubber
Seasoned with questions about
The sex lives of 212s,
Though I prefer
only good directions
Pointing to native
Brown trout.