How I Mistook the World for a Cow
by Cathy Dreyer
It’s true. I thought the world was a large cow.
I used to drain her bulgy dugs most days.
But blame the world for this. The world allowed
me to believe she was a cow, the way
she’d moo on cue and squirt out milk to drink.
When I tied her up too tightly, somehow
she only twitched her tail and let me think
she loved to roam around and play the cow.
I mean, she never tried to get away.
She never bellowed to be fed or sheltered,
just stood, slow-blinking, at what came her way,
unmoved by belching trucks and cars that pelted
past. Oh well. So, the world is not a cow.
How will I fill my empty stomach now?