That Speckled Grey

There was a man.

And there was a horse that
was the colour of pebbles,

assuming that pebbles are speckled grey,
and this man had a horse,

or at least that’s what he thought,
but facts, being facts, always aren’t

because this horse had a man
and this horse juggled its man

upside down, sideways, and in the air.

The man took every precaution,
wore a tin hat on his head, tight

blue breeches, knee-high boots with
giddy-ups pokums on them, and

a leather saddle strapped on his thighs.

The horse wore nothing at all,
except for that man of his, and

at every opportunity that horse
threw his man like a tossed coin.

And everyone said that man
was just horsing around, but

that horse had a thing or two to say about that.