a cow once ate rotten apples
in an orchard in Kent
went around butting trees
for three days drunk
on sort-of-cider
honking like a goose
sometimes it lowed up
at the bottom of my ladder
all plaintive and cow-eyed
come down it cried and let
me ravish those apples
you have upon your back
but no, surely no, I cried back
northern cunt, it said then
(that's what they say, down there
in that Kentish place)
from its many stomachs
full of ferment, just wait
until you come down
from your perch for I will
surely renounce vegetarianism
on your behoof
and will eat you from the apple up
three long days in a tree
terrorized by a mad cow disease
but it grew upon me
like moss and mould and yawns
now my entire family
grandparents, dead, and all
hanging
arboreal are we now
swingers all, the junglee VIP
three by three
banana-eaters amidst the rainy oaks
me and King Louie adrift
in this Agatha mystery case
of the sodden Kentish cow
.
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