Interpretation of Some Days by Billy Collins
Somedays I pull the wagon with all the people,
I wait patiently as they load,
if they bring me carrots,
I stand still and let their children pet me.
All afternoon I do this,
families with babies,
a well kept business man,
coat ironed, perfectly groomed.
But other days, I am pulled
by the leather leash in my mouth,
to stand stagnant,
amongst a row of other nameless pack mules.
It’s secure
but how would you like it
if you never knew from one day to the next
if you were going to spend it,
prancing around like a show pony,
your mane glowing under the street lamps,
or standing amidst unfamiliar horseshit,
staring forward because of your head blinders,
straight at a horse’s ass
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