Mad Cow is all about size His dick, his brain, his thighs He loves the crowd’s roar Call him a whore No one this big, lies.
Mad Cow’s tongue tends to slip Like he’s walking without a hip His jaw goes slack No spine nor back Cow is still biting his lip.	Cow dithers and dangles Words at ripe angles Speech in retreat Ice cold to heat Syntax and meaning mangled.
Cow holds thoughts by the scruff No memory, no meaning—all bluff Verbs become nouns All feelings and frown Bottom of the suitcase stuff.	Mad Cow was fed on the dead Armies of men put to bed Bones into feed Just what a Cow needs Napoleon has gone to his head.