I’ve got sharp horns
Like any bull
But mine can’t gore
And maim and kill
My enemies
In altercations:
They’re more of
A decoration.
Or perhaps
They’re here to say
“That’s not a cow
So keep away”
My horns point in,
They’re quite unique
They tell you that
Your outlook’s bleak.
For if I find
I must defend
Myself, I use
The other end.
You want to fight?
No problem, pal!
I’ll just deploy
My arsenal.
I lift my tail
And let it fly:
Corrosive dung
Right in your eye
So reconsider
Your attack
You give me shit?
I’ll give shit back.
Tom Juniper Poetry 