inbred bull

I.
at the sale
the family bought an inbred bull
if that tells you anything
about how the farm is doing


they brought it home
in a tin can
connected to pa's truck
the bull memorized his license plate along the way

II.
i sit at my desk most days
listening to richard marx
watching that derivative bull

watching its grotesque musculature
swimming beneath
brown
and black
like a collection of children
kidnapped
and shuffling about a duffle bag

not caring to mingle with the colts
or bloated heifers

III.
the morning inchoate
is the part of the day i prefer

so i was awake to witness it

the existentialists
were sitting in rows
in the corn field
perpendicular to the crop lines

smoking cigarettes
beneath the dawn fog

when he came galloping along
with clumsy strength (the worst kind)

and crashed through the line
like bowling pins

bowling pins
black sweatered
reading glassed

it felt like some kind of victory to me
but id be ashamed to admit it in the presence
of anyone
but myself