we spent the
weekend
taser-gunning
the cows

Billy rigged up
a bathtub
in the pasture
where we heated
the water to a boil
and gently
placed them in

their soft smiles
thanked us
and a foamy grey film
bled out as they
sunk below
the surface

Billy retched
and I told him
to be calm
it’s just
the final essence of
their kindness rising
I said
their inner milkiness

then a ruby-throat
came to draw in
the nectar from a
cluster of bee balm flowers
immortalized in mid-air
and still more cows
wandered forward

in their smoky flatulence
we found
alphas and deltas
that we arranged
into formulas
on a tarnished
silver plate

and as the campfire embers
glowed deep red and
our sleeping sacks
beckoned to us
we drank down the
final gulps of
hot miner’s tea

and Billy pronounced it
“more of the stuff
that made Rome great”