Never mind the dog woman, get the fucking heifer!
We had raised the invisible fox,
down by the lower stream,
my cousin and I,
or as we would say,
me and my cousin.
We had raised the invisible hare,
and lost it in the hay field.
Me and my cousin
plodding homeward
along the lane to Boyd’s farm.
It’s OK, it’s OK.
When, here they come:
Boyd, his wife, the heifer, and the dog,
and a stick.
It was then that the dog pinned us,
atop the bank, drool-snarled,
shrunk against the barbed wire sky.
Boyd’s wife moved to lash the dog with her tongue;
it was then that Boyd spat his bile:
‘Never mind the dog woman,
get the fucking heifer!
Get the fucking heifer!’
And they were passed;
cow patted, tattered,
ragged and steaming.
And we hung there,
exhaled,
exchanged glances,
and bravado smiled.
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