Greetings beefketeers. My humble apologies for the lack of meaty poetry these last few weeks. I offer no explanation for my absence - in place, and by way of sating your undoubtedly insatiable appetite for bovine verse, I offer several Haiku where one would most certainly suffice. They cover the four basic motifs of fear, guilt, cheese and loss:
Spring is upon us.
Cows making beefy babies.
Hush! Make not a sound.
I dropped the burger
and he had no idea.
I am a bad man.
Cheeseburger logic:
Beef comes from a cow, also -
cheese comes from a cow.
She will not return.
Tears fall into cottage pie.
And I feel unloved.