Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    New Shoes On A Dead Horse
    New Shoes On A Dead Horse
    New Shoes On A Dead Horse
    Ebook78 pages32 minutes

    New Shoes On A Dead Horse

    By Sierra DeMulder

    4.5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    The Romans believed that an artist's inspiration came from a spirit, called a genius, that lived in the walls of the artist's home. This character appears throughout the book, providing charming commentary and biting insight on the young author's creative process and emotional path.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWrite Bloody Publishing
    Release dateNov 5, 2018
    ISBN9781935904960
    New Shoes On A Dead Horse
    Author

    Sierra DeMulder

    Sierra DeMulder is the author of four other collections of poetry (The Bones Below, New Shoes on a Dead Horse, We Slept Here, Today Means Amen) and the co-host of the relationship advice podcast Just Break Up. She lives in Albany, NY with her wife and daughter.

    Read more from Sierra De Mulder

    Related to New Shoes On A Dead Horse

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Six Sonnets

      Jan 1, 2021

      Goldenrod, I could say, you know, everybody wants somethingfrom me, but, well, everybody wants something and nobody wantsnothing from me, goldenrod, towhead, beast. Goldenrod, you packthe meadows like gold-plated sardines. I have heart palpitationsbu

      3 min read

    • Article

      Devil Asks Why You Would Mouth The Word Pity

      Jul 1, 2022

      even in this abundance of dark? Even in this abundance of dark you have totake the stars on faith. Look: Under today’s dim sky there is a basket.In that basket there is a fish. Come night, you are the animal that will eat the best parts of it. And ye

      1 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Mar 15, 2022

      a ghost is hangingfrom the doorpostof our past— can you see it?it has wounds—it’s bleedingyears from its mouth [.] when we left ourhouses that aprilit was for history’s pleasure— twice the war wasin far-flung townsthen it grew a light foot and veered

      1 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jul 1, 2019

      You agreed to meet him in one of those cafés you imagined yourself writing in if you could afford to live in that city. He was also a writer, but older, and you wanted to know how to get published. Slip a picture of yourself in with your poems, he ad

      6 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2024

      I’ve always been an easy crier (let it come, not ashamed, never held it back in joy or grief, and wherever … subway, teaching, grocery store, (oh the desolate grocery store during the height of Covid) but now, the welling up: that’s daily now. —Lia P

      5 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2024

      I wake from a dreamin which I’m speaking coarselyto my daughter who has taken offher clothes in the middleschool parking lot and is washingher body in ritual preparationto go onto the internet and find outif the rumor she heard abouther favorite YouT

      3 min read

    • Article

      Diary of My Leg Hair

      Dec 8, 2022

      Diary of My Leg Hair
      21 min read

    • Article

      Longer on Moon

      Sep 22, 2022

      Longer on Moon
      19 min read

    • Article

      All My Tomorrows

      May 10, 2022

      It was Misha’s first day minding the shop, and already she’d broken the fifth rule. Always lock the door immediately. When you had the most valuable merchandise in the universe, you had to take the utmost precautions. She hadn’t meant to disobey. It

      13 min read

    • Article

      The Leather Coat

      Apr 4, 2024

      The Leather Coat
      6 min read

    • Article

      Begin Again

      Jun 14, 2022

      My grandfather came to live with me. There was nowhere else for him to go. What had happened to all his children? Death, decay, exile—I hardly know. My own parents died of pain. But I must not be too gloomy, at the beginning, or you will leave me, an

      6 min read

    • Article

      Parakeet

      May 29, 2020

      Parakeet
      11 min read

    • Article

      O Fortuna, Velut Luna

      Sep 15, 2018

      What is Miss Treece’s trouble, according to a popular notion? The man A has failed to show up. Arousing herself at the restaurant, she fixes her lipstick when her solo supper concludes and takes herself down the stairs situated behind the bar. There,

      3 min read

    • Article

      Devotional

      Sep 1, 2021

      Devotional
      11 min read

    • Article

      To Live a Little

      Oct 3, 2022

      To Live a Little
      13 min read

    • Article

      Announcing The winners Of Our FLASH CONTEST

      Feb 29, 2020

      I sever the first two fingers of my left hand on a Tuesday. They fall to the ground at my feet, causing a momentary confusion as I wonder what tree has dropped this odd fruit. Then I see the crescent scar left behind by a fish hook and know that thes

      8 min read

    • Article

      The Eulogy

      Jul 13, 2022

      The Eulogy
      7 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for New Shoes On A Dead Horse

    4.5/5

    15 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      New Shoes On A Dead Horse - Sierra DeMulder

      Dylan

      I

      The Genius and the Soup Kitchen

      On opening day, no one showed up.

      Same with the next. And the next.

      And the next.

      Finally, he unplugged the Open sign.

      He waited for it to cool before bending

      the letters, forming new words

      with electric yarn.

      You Will Find Everything Here

      now glows in the window. At first,

      only a few questions crawled

      through the door. Soon, unfinished

      sentences. Eventually, herds

      of priests, atheists, whole families of

      extinct animals.

      Today, there is a four hour wait

      just to stand inside. Starving,

      they ask about winning

      lottery numbers, lost family

      recipes, the necessity of exercise.

      Is there a God? Why doesn’t he return

      my phone calls? Where did I leave

      my car keys? When a tree falls

      in the forest, does it suffer?

      He serves bowls of bubbling

      Compliments. Slices of Financial Advice.

      Entire legs of Answers, fresh cut

      Answers, baked Answers served

      with butter and garlic.

      When they leave, he hears them

      use words like full, content.

      He has stopped sleeping at night.

      He lies in bed and watches the hours

      clock in and out of their shifts.

      I am a dumb doctor.

      A Novocain prescription.

      I am new shoes

      on a dead horse.

      The Perm

      The first time my mother stood up

      to my father, she got her hair permed.

      He had told her not to—said it was

      a waste of my hard-earned money.

      My father tells me this story while crying.

      He is softer now, a treadless tire.

      My mother came home from the salon,

      and I’ll be damned, Sierra, if it didn’t look

      terrible. It killed me, I swear to God.

      This perm, the first mutter

      in a soundless room, the swing of the bat

      only to find the piñata is a real dog.

      Now, thirty years later, I am a poet

      and I am telling this story as if it were mine.

      I am harvesting this splinter.

      This embarrassing toothache.

      I am dragging my father’s temper out of storage

      by the wrist. I am making my mother drive home

      from the salon over and over and over.

      The Origin of Breast Milk

      It began after the rape of St. Agatha,

      a woman of God imprisoned in a brothel

      for a month for rejecting a suitor.

      She did not cry, even as

      the shade was drawn on the first night

      and the worst, most tired

      parts of men found

      themselves at her bedroom door.

      Her first lover was a boy,

      no older than fourteen.

      Her second, a blacksmith.

      Her third tasted like wet stone

      and looked like her brother.

      Her fourth, a drunkard, a widower.

      In the morning, while Agatha

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1