A Sad Cow [in Uckfield]
I came face-to-face with
a sad cow [in Uckfield] –
weighty & miserable – a
sourness of auld smells
& its stench put me into
Morocco – a ripped hide
among a hundred other
stripped creatures [that
I have handled] – & then
I was fucking in Israel as
scarce water sluiced my
layer of cow shed sweat
[a froth on a girlfriend’s
heavy breasts – that sex
was splendid – then] – in
a slow sweep it rejoined
other cattle – rattling off
over that low red bridge
where it’s dark herd was
stood – immobile [apart
from grinding dry grass]