The story of cow-tipping
begins on a dark road by a stone wall
nose twitching in the thick odor of manure
and cows mooing nearby.

It ends stooped over panting
in the unhealthy blue smoke
of the revving worn out V8
in a pal’s rusted out old chevy
laughing about hamburgers.

In between, the realization of the myth
when the cow does not tip
but that is the part of the story
we do not tell our children.