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More poems by Gregory CorsoGregory Corso | Print this page.Print | Order a PoetryNotes Analysis of this poem.Analysis | View and Write CommentsComments

The Mad Yak

Gregory Corso

I am watching them churn the last milk they'll ever get from me.
They are waiting for me to die;
They want to make buttons out of my bones.
Where are my sisters and brothers?
That tall monk there, loading my uncle, he has a new cap.
And that idiot student of his--
I never saw that muffler before.
Poor uncle, he lets them load him.
How sad he is, how tired!
I wonder what they'll do with his bones?
And that beautiful tail!
How many shoelaces will they make of that!

Added: 19 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 7 Sep 2008 6:34 AM | Viewed: 3108 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/237/ | Viewed on 7 September 2008.
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