A is for apple
Just a pure comedy song
Just the way we can grapple for where we go wrong
Live and be merry
Die and get long
Like the shadows in the orchards
When I was young
Cow play of the herd
Instinct, moo movement
Turd ringlet, who ever heard
Of a bull
With a ring in the end of his nose?
Shire horses suffolks
Built like tree trunks and their buttocks
Not even the endless toning in a gym
Could come up to the mark on him
His great grand daddy was an American Stallion
Brought over by the owners
Mustang, no mustang Sally
Drive your rodeo out of town
Clip, clop, tightly prigged
Pony tails of the braids
Like their riders so tight lipped with bit in mouth
And dressage horses,
slim of ankle
Not these tanks,
They have no fur for the clay earth
To clog in
Shoed
No comments:
Post a Comment