by Siddiq Islam

I wander down to Cowley Road

To see where all the cows are stowed,

But when I find no cows are there,

They tell me I should look elsewhere.

‘How rubbishly they named’, I muse,

‘A cow-named road where no cow moos,’

But on I trudge to find the cattle,

My own, determined, bovine battle.

I think to check in Exam Schools

And search among the Exam Stools,

But that is not how cows are assessed,

And actually elsewhere is best.

I sulk along to Teddy Hall,

To see if any are there at all,

But Teddy scared them all away,

And so I go along my way.

I pop my peepers into Brasenose.

To see the quads and if they graze those,

But all the grass is left ungrazed,

And so I leave there, unamazed.

With head hung low, I stumble away,

Not having seen a cow all day,

‘But have you checked Christ Church Meadow?’

A gargoyle on the churchtop bellows.

I wander through the kissing gate

Without a cow (or kissing mate),

But soon enough I marvel how

Beyond the gate: a good old cow!