Just a story of a (cow)boy and his (old) gnu.
Picture this incident vivid:
young David, a cowpuncher avid,
to saddle his
livid old bovid,
must fervid be, nor know not 'pavid.'
Uly Poe pens dogg'rel verse. "'Tis fun," hums Uly, "I disburse." The gamut runs from bad to worse. The matter treated...? Quite diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a blessing largely. (Not a curse.)
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