I am the cow
I have brown hair
On a diet that is primarily bulgur
And a little hay
And munching perpendicular

I love the South
Except the clay
I graze upon things in my way
I am bovine and I need to chew cud
Just like every animal does

I am the spoon
I have no hair
You can choose me or your fingers for a holder
With a cheese soufflé
Or something less ventricular

Open your mouth
And then make way
I think we’re having soup and flambé
Or there’s Hunan’ and some spice that you know
Just know, there’s no gooey damp dough

I have to run
I’m dinner ware
I am china that is Royal Dalton stoner
I’m a saucer plate
For coffee, I’m vehicular

There is no doubt
A brief soiree
I’ll run off with the spoon on Monday
There’s a full moon, and it’s time to move on
To a place for summer fun sun

There’s a cat that we’d like to know.
Maybe a musician who likes to play tunes
Grab a bow, and fiddle on your own
A song well known
You’ll feel spry
Over fence you’ll fly

See the moon is gonna call the cow
Lit abstractly in its sheen
Hooves now readily leaving the ground
Hear a laughing dog sound.