11/6
Wanda Ananda

O rest your weary head upon the cow,
for it’s five o’clock in the a.m.
& you are in a freezing barn right now
Because your turn to milk has come again.
The first squirts pings the pail euphoniously
but then the rhythm lulls you like a drug,
You can’t allow yourself to fall asleep
lest she’ll plop her shitty foot into the jug
& there you are with nothing left to show
for the courageous climb out of your bed.
Now there’s only one gallon to go
& so you go & rest your weary head
on her flank and listen to the mutter
of grass & oats transforming into butter.