Clade Song 16

Horse Piss

It runs pungent, braided
beneath the broad pink, whorled
barrel, cinched loosely,
around the hooves, and under

the carriage as it begins to inch, to roll
forward. It forms the outline
of a glistening newborn, with steaming
arms and legs that stretch

longer than mine, longer even than
his, like golden shadows. How quick
the day eddies, thickens
even as it thins. With the sand

of the pavement’s infinitesimal
architecture, it struggles
downhill. For momentum. Then
halts as the gelding did, whinnying

so loud and unruled it made me turn.
This is no great indignation.
The joggers step around it, respectful,
and after a while, don’t.

Nick Neely is the author of the essay collection Coast Range, a finalist for the John Burroughs Medal for natural history writing, and the travelogue Alta California, an LA Times Bestseller that details his twelve-week trek from San Diego to San Francisco to retrace the first overland Spanish expedition through that territory. He is a recipient of PEN Northwest’s Boyden Wilderness Writing Residency, a UC Berkeley–11th Hour Food and Farming Journalism Fellowship, and an AAAS Kavli Science Journalism Award. His work is published in magazines such as Orion, Mother Jones, Kenyon Review, The Threepenny Review, The Georgia Review, The Southern Review, The Missouri Review, Harvard Review, Fourth Genre, FIELD, Ninth Letter, Ecotone, and River Teeth. He teaches at Eastern Oregon University and directs its low-res MFA program in creative writing with a special concentration in Landscape, Ecology, and Community.