(obsession
doggerel)
A Load
of Bull: tauromania
His bull
obsession had some kinks—
Not helped
by several rounds of drinks.
He needed
wisdom, a la Sphinx.
But he
decided he would run
The bulls
in Spain—It must be fun!
He told
his dad, who said, Now, Son,
You must be careful there in Spain,
Where rain comes mainly in the
plain,
Where … never mind. I can’t
explain.
So off he
flew—a foreign land—
Where
things did not go as he planned:
They
aren’t all like old Ferdinand,
That bull
who loved his peacful ways,
And
sniffed those flowers through his days.
No—getting
gored? That hole just stays.
So he came
home, brought to his knees.
And every
breath—a kind of wheeze.
And
through his guts? A steady breeze.
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