Hiram slipped his elbow
then his forearm
then his wrist
from the swollen vulva
of the poor heifer
whose calf he’d had to twist
to get it to emerge all aglow-
first the legs, and then the torso.

“Delivering poorly
presented calves
can be some tedious work.”
Hiram stated
as he brought the calf
with one final tug n’ jerk,
“It’s a stress on the calf- and brother-
a right pain in the ars for the mother.”

“T’isn’t exactly painless
for a poor farmer
either, now don’t ya see
I’ll have to sell
off this wee little calf
if I’m ta cover yer fee.”
Farmer Ed countered, and so it began-
the necessary haggle-an…

Written for Chelsea’s Terrible Poetry Contest topic: Unusual ways to make money.

6 thoughts on “Breech

  1. I felt for the mother.
    And your post reminded me of a’ramble’ a few years back, across the marshes. There we saw a line-up of cows. Literally all in a line. And thought that rather odd. And as we neared we saw the miracle. One of the cows was calving her young. I’m telling you, this lady had more midwives than any human mother ever had!


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