Posted Goat

A sweet yet posted goat, a young kid, loving Sally , wantin’ a ride, a Mustang, Sally long loast baby, or kit, and looking what goat intelligence want to do, you do, and you do, hairdo, and kick slick, never blindness, nor poverty, meaning me and you, huddled together for hair do.

A goat roped can bite that rope– gain sustenance and freedom.

Goat gnawing at post, bored of course, we loved the big teeth, the Utah, the Morris morals molars Udah, home on the range, plains, deep dark forest, homeless on the strange, monkey in a tree with teeth, a young kid with treeth to tee off, into teeth truth freedom, to the max, no sign of resistance, intelligence spent wisely.

Goat, a posted pan pandemoni, drinking in Utah, Arizona, Coronado, the Colorado River, calling it Hoover, or Meade– okay, drinking in mead, from the skull of a Norman Ma Mao sweet silted night lo la bridg troll la, in afro where goats are still kept, in Mannahattas, where,

At 9 East 71st Street, goats are still kept.