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Panic in the Paddock

You deserve this break, having been up since even the early-bird was still in bed,

Even awake while the stars were still high in the sky

And the moon bathed the grass with its pale white eye.

Moving these animals from their sleeping state,

Off of their beds doubling as dinner plates, doubling as dinner-

Their begrudging moans loud as they leave this place of rest to go to work,

To relieve them of the stress and free them of the weight between their legs for us to taste.

 

Eventually it’s over, and content they chew

Upon fresh beds whilst content you view your labour, and sip your brew,

Savour the flavour,

And then you relax, drop your guard,

Pat yourself on the back,

Tell yourself it wasn’t so hard

But you hear it – a bolt from the blue-

A single, solitary, forlorn, viscous, drawn out Moo.

 

And like that it spreads, like spilt milk spreading across a marble floor,

(But this is worth crying for) they take up the call, 1 then 2 then 3 then 4,

Then 40, 100, they move like a flock of sparrows,

Telepathic tether moving them like arrows

To the open gate, the broken wire, the fencepost damaged by a long ago bushfire

Has finally broken and they’ve got out, escaped,

They stream and flow, livestock gushing from a spout and you debate

As you drink up, and wipe sweat from your brow,

Why would anyone want to milk cows?

farmingagricultureslamraporal

◄ Travel Notes

Life ►

Comments

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raypool

Fri 6th Jan 2017 17:32

This is a welcome offering Stuart coming as it does with inside knowledge and a fine observational sting in the tail.
It is refreshing how we can learn so much and get into the real nature of things. Bravo!

Ray

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Stuart Bright

Fri 6th Jan 2017 04:21

Ok, so i was trying something new to me with the rythm and flow of this poem and i hope it reads well to you.

The inspiration for this came from my experiences in farming. I have spent the last 6 years in agriculture, 4 of them farming in Australia (which coincidentally is where i am now) and the last 2 as an Artificial Inseminator.

There is no worse a sound than an unplanned breakout-you've been up since 3am, just got home and ready for brekky/beer/sleep and boom you hear it - like a hoard of zombies moaning in the distance.

I hope you enjoyed it.
Stu.

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