Thursday, June 11, 2009
Quality is the name of the game
For purebred cattle herds
So no expense is spared acquiring genes.
They arrive in tanks of nitrogen
In something we call straws
And delivered in a way that seems obscene.
It is the most efficent way
For improving of the herd
Because the best blood is often far away
So modern technology
Has taken the place
Of the purebred herd bulls today.
However, there are those
Among the lucky few
Who don't face humiliation in a cone
They get to roam the pasture
With the chosen of the crop;
They're like a king who sits upon a throne.
With their harem on display
They stand by the road all day
With an attitude of, "Hey, you -- look at me!"
You know it's just their job --
Passing traits on to the mob --
And it's just the way that it was meant to be!