Tale from Ovid


Such good-natured gluttony

never stopped Blake's plow

from killing your dad

but he's asleep now anyway

dozing softly as a bull

in a light green maze

that exists only onscreen

where your children play

just conceived and barely

mentioned these dirty little

secrets hold the keys to

the bull and the shit

to the plow that follows

the string your wife pulled

from the real ass of a

fake cow while you slept

(like a baby bull)

on the real hard couch