three specialists travel in their car
down Victoria, Australia
through rural Mildura
and they see fields
and a black cow standing in one

“Cows in Mildura,”
announces the astronomer
“are black”

“Tchk! Tchk!” says the logician
(Eminent Professor Emeritus)
“Some cows in Mildura are black”

“Let’s express it with precision,”
says the Mathematician
*“It is exact to say
there is at least one field
in Mildura
with at least one cow
of which at least one side is black”

We had a pig of whom my son adored
My wife and I did deplore
We gave in and let it stay
My son could not hold back hoorays

We sat through a wicked storm
My son went out to keep him warm
We heard a screech, running, cries
My anger peaked when I saw his eyes

We never thought the pig would bite
My son forgave, it wasn't right
We took the pig, to spill it's ******* blood
My heart broke down... my son's love

We thought it through and agreed
My son should never have to bleed
We got some rope and tied it down
"Only see and speak" brought a frown

We then considered, knock out it's teeth
My word! This shall end our grief
We grabbed a hammer and took a swing
My pig could only squeal and sing

We did not know what would become
"He's no longer friendly, just bitterly numb"

Mummy
I think you should send Grandma back
to where she came from;
she comes into my room
stares about, and she says:
“Decadent! Decadent! Decadent!”
And then she mutters:
“Never had such things in my day!”
Ma – it’s a good idea to send her back
to where she came from, I think
And when no one is home
but me and Grandma
she puts plastic flowers in her hair
and dances all round with her song:
"This eve is my wedding;
this eve am I the bride
And I've me the handsomest man
in all of the land"
She hid my shoes the other day
and she grinned when I found them under her bed;
when you are not looking
she swipes her hands over a pretend iPad
and sticks her tongue out, and pops her eyes out
and whispers to me:
“That’s how you look, dearie dear;
like the village idiot in days of old”
She says I dress too short;
I should wear skirts right down to the toes
Grandma stood over my bed
yesterday morning
and she said I was sleeping late, too long;
and she copycats me eating, and she says:
“You are at a sumptuous table
but you eat like the poor”
And she pretends to kiss me goodnight
and she whispers her secret curse:
“Girls who don’t wash their toes,  
they don’t go to Heaven
You might wake up in the morning
and find yourself  walking
on the hot coals of Hell”
Mummy, please
I think you should send Grandma back
to where she came from