Falling cows eat into profits.

Falling cows eat into profits.

We built a farm up in the sky
On a sky scraper would you believe?
It was so very windy, being high
With drawbacks we could not conceive.

The stupid cows for instance
Kept dropping off the side
They would walk into the distance
With plaintive “Moo” start downward ride.

Someone called the coppers
About the incident
So many injured shoppers
From cows “that heaven sent”.

Pigs flew down on New Yorkers
They rained down from the skies
But these aviating porkers
Became kamikaze porky pies.

Flightless poultry tumbled
In classic figure eight
Startled diners grumbled
At whole chickens on their plate.

So perhaps a bad location
For this little farm of mine
But we’re an enterprising nation
And it seemed a good idea, at the time.