cohorts of the hoof:

the other night
at my place
I look up
and I am sitting with
a horse trainer
and two
jockeys agents.

we are pouring
the red
and discussing
the aspects
of the world
of
racing.

if my dear father
could see
me
I’m sure he
would
say:

“Henry, I always
told you
you’d come to
no damn
good…”

as I tell the
trainer
that he has been
blowing out
too many of his
nags
under 35
flat

it is getting
near 2 a.m.

but no
matter:

no racing:

today’s
Tuesday.