The little bull calf gets his soft pink nuts clipped off, then is released in a state of bafflement, wandering this way and that, perhaps feeling a tad lighter, an actual lacuna. But like the rest of the culture these creatures are quick healers, have been dumbed down so far from their wild state they think we're harmless. In the old days sometimes longhorns, like the Lakota had, had the sense to attack Cavalry contingents, goring what could be gored. Even now a few, not quite bred or beaten into senescence, struggle wildly with these invisible telemetric collars wrapped tightly around our necks though it's fatally illegal to take them off. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 8 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE LOVE: AN ELEGY by MARK AKENSIDE THANKS BE TO GOD by JANIE ALFORD |