The Donkey and The Goat

There was this donkey
who learned to read and write
in order to create his founding myth.
The reality of his existence
was just too much.
It was all lashes with ropes soaked in gasoline.
It was all enduring hateful curses,
shrieked in piss soaked alleyways,
and hospital waiting rooms.
So, it was too just too much, really.


There was this old goat
who looked after every kid in the barnyard.
A goat whose best years flowered
pulling carts full of seeds to feed the young.
All day and all night
the goat butted her horns against the sides of her pen.
She bucked and kicked at the donkey's stall.
And why shouldn't she?
Donkeys aren't supposed to write, are they?