There was once a woman whose father over <br />the years had become an ox. <br /> <br /> She would hear him alone at night lowing <br />in his room. <br /> <br /> It was one day when she looked up into his <br />face that she suddenly noticed the ox. <br /> <br /> She cried, you're an ox! <br /> <br /> And he began to moo with his great pink <br />tongue hanging out of his mouth. <br /> <br /> He would stand over his newspaper, turning <br />the pages with his tongue, while he evacuated <br />on the rug. <br /> <br /> When this was brought to his attention he <br />would low with sorrow, and slowly climb the <br />stairs to his room, and there spend the night <br />in mournful lowing.<br /><br />Russell Edson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ox/
