I can’t get a laugh out at the funny farm.
The cows love satire, but find it
ironic not to show it. (Cud-ups!)
The deadly ducks quack up at nothing.
Mules may bray, but only as harassment.
And then there is the neighing of the steeds.
I’d rather work the sad cafe and die of soul
attrition than founder in the flop and slop
of life within these fences.