by Joan Colby

We argue about the mattress.
You prefer firm while I
Like some give. It’s the same
With textures. I want crisp
While you fancy mushy.
I insist on reason, you go for
Guesswork, yet where you’re
Precise demanding perfection,
I’ll say: good enough.

When you hear hoofbeats
Think horses not zebras

The famous medical axiom.

Your zebras run amok in the
Canyons of exception while
My horses graze in their usual pastures.

We face off each morning
Over coffee, juice, the days
Parade of controversial news.

Seven books published including The Lonely Hearts Killers, The Atrocity Book, etc. Over 980 poems in publications including Poetry, Atlanta Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, The New York Quarterly, South Dakota Review, Epoch, etc. Two Illinois Arts Council Literary Awards (one in 2008) and an IAC Literary Fellowship. Honorable mention in the 2008 James Hearst Poetry Contest—North American Review and the 2009 Editor’s Choice Contest–Margie, and finalist in the 2007 GSU (now New South) Poetry Contest, 2009 Nimrod International Pablo Neruda Prize, 2010 James Hearst Poetry Contest and Ernest J. Poetry Prize Joan Colby lives on a small horse farm in Northern Illinois with her husband and assorted animals.