by Whale Boy
You are my horse and you belong to me.
Your name cannot be decided between apples or crunch-bite so it shall be
You are brown but since you are my horse I will decide your color and it shall be
orange with chocolate chips.
You are my horse and you will be mine and no other’s and we will be
We can play soft ball and we can go camping, we can build fires and you can
not burn myself.
Whale Boy is 15 and he is Whale Child’s brother, home for the summer. He wears black T-shirts with Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley on them and is a member of a computer game discussion board with a username of Inverted Coma. He hasn’t written a poem since Middle School that I am aware of. He doesn’t have a horse, has never had one and has never asked to have one, so who knows where this came from. He’s cool, though. Plus he consented to read this aloud — listen above. I’m putting it up here to match the Whale Child poem already on this blog.