Wally brought me home a poem he wrote yesterday:
“We live on a farm.
We cause nobody no harm.
We milk dairy goats even when we have to wear winter coats.
We drink goat milk.
It goes down smooth as silk.
We eat chicken and duck eggs.
Even though the mud and muck pulls at our legs.
We raised a calf named Buster.
It was all we could muster to put Buster into hamburger custard.
We buy our clothes at the Goodwill Store.
We don’t shop at Jock Penny no more.
We get along fine as snuff.
We always have enough.
We live on a farm.
We cause nobody no harm.”
I’d say he missed his calling, no?