But then there’s the beauty of the rodeo:

		the buck and nod, 
				                      that arch and stretch
			        against gravity.

	
		    A bronco’s no square peg,
and neither am I.

		Pegs or no, we both flex
  			our more resistant muscles—			

			strong-legged, strong-willed.

To learn might
                             is the ticket.


The power of my unrelenting?

				         When I expose 
						         exactly
			how pure, how—
			           if stubborn enough— 
			                 entire I can be—