Q + A

Question
by May Swenson

Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen

Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt

Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead

How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift
how will I hide?

Answers

Body my house

We moved around a lot. I lived in three or four different places with my parents together, before they broke up sometime in the middle of my third year. My dad had one bleak, basement-level bachelor pad I stayed in half my weeks before he could afford a fixer-upper when I was eight. My mom cycled through a series of apartments, chasing cheap rent in the small town where a big university meant good public schools. I believe she believed that this would save me. From what?

my horse my hound

My mom bred pedigree Pekingese dogs. She bought me a puppy for my sixth birthday and one for herself a few years later. Then, finally, a third as a gift to her fiancé, my soon-to-be stepdad, Charles. On top of these small dogs, we had a big, sweet, and bounding Bernese Mountain Dog/Afghan Hound mix named Samson. Once, when my mom’s Pekingese was in heat, Samson lunged at me as I walked past him in our upstairs hallway. He snapped out of it as soon as he broke the