by Louise Carson
‘the sounding edge of a side opening’ – Webster’s
Sounds like a word old as creation:
Adam’s pain: his rib-mouth constricted, plugged.
Eve’s voice pops the cork: champagne for everyone.
On Iceland, where only the land is indigenous,
magna thrusting, they have a word for a horse’s lip:
flipi, related to fipple, as Iceland relates to England and Norway.
So this northland pony, little fjord horse,
opens his mouth to the side, blows air over that plug, his tongue,
plays his penny whistle, his fipple of unknown origin.
Rebecca Rajchgot: Iceland Ponies, 2014