The Drudgery of Goatery
by Pieter J. Friedrich

Daily I go to the shag-eared goats
Always, light or night, tediously I milk.
Oh! For powers magic, to turn to stoats,
Those conniving creatures; but all is bilk!
I would load, heartlessly shoot, a big gun,
Tear through their tough hides, with a sharp bullet;
Leave them, by God's grace, rotting in the sun.
Yet no, still I must attend to their billet,
Feed them, every sour-eyed day their darn hay,
Replenishing their darn water buckets!
Can a true human ever love true goats? Nay.
For as love blossoms: "The goat barn, muck it."
So continue to trudge, to toil, I must;
Yet someday, I welcome it...I will just bust!