Cowed and Bullied Among Humankine
by John Kendall Hawkins
Far from the madding cows, where once I was wont
to roam and chew my cud by the long hour,
slopping away in the freshly mown grass,
releasing methane from my morbid ass,
I came to ponder pitfalls of power,
as my fellow kine would low and taunt.
Where'd I go wrong? Was it when I went right,
sneaking up on and tipping cows, with friends?
Egging the catechismics in Easter clothes?
Doubting the value of the rabbi's prose?
Coming up from deep thoughts, getting the bends?
Where'd I go wrong? Everyday endless night.
I'm alone now and in my element,
bullied out, two horns, Bucky Bucky Dent.