(Reprise) from a year ago

humor

The Alta Dena Cow

I'm a serious, stodgy sort, but decided to have some fun with you today.
There is, in the Los Angeles area, a well-known brand of milk, called Alta Dena. Near also,
is the city named Alta Dena, and my grandson lives there. I asked him if he had seen ...
the dairy there, and he told me that it does not exist. I then asked him if he had seen
herds of milk cattle there and he said that he had not, and doubted that there were any.
Of course I wondered why the milk had such a name, and jokingly asked him to look for at least
one cow in the city, since it was well built-up, and there were no obvious open pastures at all.
I told him that we could only conclude that it had to be a very famous and rare cow that
could supply all the milk needed by a large urban dairy, and thus must be insured, protected
from the idle public, and secreted in some private home where she would not be disturbed.
The whole story and speculation grew into a riotous family "search" for this wondrous animal.
I, of course, ask my grandson each week when I see him, for a progress report on the search.
Finally, I decided to turn it into a poem:

A Search Continues

Something very hush-hush is going on
and Alta Dena folk aren't going to tell.
All cowdom secreted within its bovine lair
yet Bo would stare contentedly at us
with no incursive moo directed at the hellish
vine that she must eat, in lieu of meadow grass.
That ever-present cud must still
be masticated; yea, her celebrated udder
must be filled.

Yet none admit to having sighted her.
Beastiana though she be, no Altadenian
will dare so much as low on her behalf,
no bull, Eden-bound, is ready to exchange
his bold, testicular desire
to service mewling ruminants
who merely run away.

Nay, uncowed are they, though cowed they be,
and cowards not--and if you do not see
their wisdom, chalk it up to power,
Bo's mammary magnificence, so easily
in jeopardy before a single squeeze,
not of a n****e but a trigger
thus applied, and speeding out of sight.

Challenge, indeed, our quest to find
this noble and prolific queen
who dominates with graceful quietude
her milky empire slurping quite
without a care, lush liquid destined
not to slosh within her, rather
in those tumescent tummies
ever crying out for more.

Would I betray them for a share?
Of course. Away with those content
to sour the milk of human kindness
with deception. Let the search go on!
             ~