When the cows' tears drop upon the awl
of the stubborn cobbler's gluttonous evening
near the abattoir are heroes lying
the cows and sheep of such a bovine festival
so melt down all the belts and the culottes
the bags the plus-plus-fours the perfect brogues
back upon the shelves cast off these goods leathered
the vellum the tanned sheets the parchment all gathered
none of that is worth a meal of growing grass
near a river where cleanest water flows
ah graze ah graze and then live all bare at last
breath inhale the air through the nostrils on your nose
