Bull by Syed Ali Wasif
Once I milked my mother and sister
on the way to the bread and egg store.
While walking it was difficult.
The rain finally came.
The rain watched us walk. My mother
and sister milked me on the way home.
I squeezed the bread.
The eggs broke.
Once it started to rain my sister
the milk breaded the eggs and made
a store-bought cake. My mother cried.
Me too.
When my sister and I were eggs
and my mother walked to the store
it rained milk. Should’ve stayed (run)
home (away).
Once the way home was rained out
we returned, egging Mother on to do
one thing to that store.
Egg it.
Once my mother and sister started
to egg the store, it cried milk,
so we walked home and glared
at the bread.
My mother and sister and I walked
to the store where we bought milk
and bread and eggs. On the way home
it started to rain.
~ Jeff P. Jones
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Jeff P. Jones has one chapbook of poems, ‘Stratus Opacus‘. His poetry has appeared in ‘Sliver of Stone‘, ‘Hawai’i Pacific Review‘, ‘Puerto del Sol‘, the ‘Riffing on Strings‘ anthology, and elsewhere. He teaches writing at the University of Idaho.
