Jan/Feb 2017 • Vol. XXXIX No. 1 PoetryJanuary 1, 2017 |

Technology

Like old technology, the horses galloped across the field. What good were they to us, in the sun-speckled weather, far from any power source? The wireless net expanded over the valley and, at times, seemed to glow. They veered along the woods' edge, then back in our direction. The useless horses, not even good for meat, when you think about it. They are good, you said, for running in circles. Then, the horses thundered past again—I counted five of them— leaving behind the low scent of dirt and sweat and shit. As I implied, the wireless cloud cast everything in a new light. A beautiful moment, for I saw then how time brings some of us with it, and leaves others behind. It's good to be carried into the present. Now you were leaning on the fence post, typing something into your phone. Now the horses obscured themselves in the dust their hooves kicked up. Eventually, I thought, they would run out of power. That is, there was not much to e

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