Still Born
I am vegan and also a folk and contry man. This song jumped into my head one morning
in a dream. This sadest of folk songs tells the story of a still-born calf, a
sad but not irregular thing in many family farms.
straw is scattered all around
sunken shoulders fill the door
heavy breathing - the only sound.
Uterine water muds the floor
straw is scattered all around
sunken shoulders fill the door
heavy breathing - the only sound.
Eat, chew, repeat.
Eat, chew, repeat.
Three hours labour, we know she tried
eight long months to no avail
her legs are trembling - so are mine
inside her hope that will not fail.
Eat, chew, repeat.
Eat, chew, repeat.
[Finally the vet has massaged out of the slippy rear
a dangling blob of brown and white
ten more minutes pushing and four legs appear
he pulls them out, and lays them on the floor
and then it is silent, as before.]
Eat, chew, repeat.
Eat, chew, repeat.
The cold moonlight creeps inside
everyone leaves with a chill
she stands alone there in the night
except for her the night is still.
