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.