Day 61 (Dairyland Disaster)

Pent up and penned down, pin me to this ugly rind. Pinioned by time seeping in through holes in my exterior, holes in my defense, the rime creeping up around my toes, clenching my nose with its acrid stench. The hindquarters of the beast of burden yearn for relief from burrs and blur with motion too stunted to measure and too calloused to pleasure. Its treasure is in its misery, fissuring from within, bursting note after note in its throat trilling and laughing and thrashing around, dashing me to the ground, for its misery cannot be contained, it shall retrain old ways into new days, saying "please" and "thank you" and "kindly won't you shove it sir." Eyes limp with pain lick the air and paw the quivering ground; look down you cow, don't you dare raise your stare up to the heavens, heaven knows what you'll find that will find you shivering in the dark slithering to make its mark upon your heart, stark and cold, killing and thrilling the old whey of your new milk, suckled by your ilk.