They line up, lowing, at the gate:
Udders plump and pendulous
Or horns, stiff and pointy.
Dappled coats sport jagged brands
(so they know what farm they're from.)
The youngest ones are shooed away -
To fatten for a coming slaughter.
Once in, it's
Nose to tail,
Leather on leather,
jamming ahead for a
Lick at the trough.
The satisfied spill streetward,
Pushed out by hungrier cows.