Come spring i'd have new playmates The nannies lapped at the afterbirth spread rich like liver upon the rain-soaked grass The newborns took their first steps fell, got licked, rose, stood, stepped, fell again learning everything a goat needed to know within that first week Following mom and her protruding sack staked by chain and eating everything inside its radius The kids, one, two, sometimes three stayed close as mom endured eating constantly to keep up her strength That goat's milk was high-octane stuff and when i was forced to give up goats for people goat's milk for common cow's the goat remained inside my bones, my skin, my unyielding stubborn weed-filled head their bleating cries their single-minded purpose There was my favorite billy who would climb atop our black Buick his long white hair fragrant with piss He'd throw back his bearded horny head stomp his hoof upon the car's metal roof laugh and bleat at the sun in sharp murderous minor chords like he knew something the rest of us were afraid to admit
—Larry Crist