Made//Unmade

Everything I make destroys me

on the look back. I erase myself

like the dot of an i. I forget how it felt

to shiver in the rewrite, to blink

and find the sun is set. I'm sitting in the dark.

//

In Denver, there stands a horse. He's taller

than the planes he beckons. He was drafted

in a barn, first, then cast into the world. His maker

must have shivered in the hay. He must have known

the head would fall, that he would bleed.

//

My words aren't tall, but they weigh heavy. They feel

sharp. I linger on them far too long and pretend

I'm someone else. Are they worth it? Do they still

land? If the sculptor, limping past the city's deadline,

had just left the horse unfinished, maybe he could tell me.

___________________

Truth is stranger than fiction. The story of Blue Mustang's creation is nearly as odd as the sculpture itself, and is well worth reading about in detail here.

Long story short: Luis Jiménez was commissioned to develop a monument for Denver International Airport. He modeled a 32' tall horse after his own Appaloosa, Blackjack, purchased once he felt he'd succeeded as an artist. In the process of making Blue Mustang, now affectionately named "Blucifer" by locals, he suffered health problems that delayed the project's completion. He was sued by the city, he countersued, and mediation determined he must finish the sculpture.

A large piece fell and severed an artery in Jiménez's leg. He bled to death on his studio floor.