The Ox

 There was once a woman whose father over 
the years had become an ox.


 She would hear him alone at night lowing 
in his room.


 It was one day when she looked up into his 
face that she suddenly noticed the ox.


 She cried, you're an ox!

 And he began to moo with his great pink 
tongue hanging out of his mouth.


 He would stand over his newspaper, turning 
the pages with his tongue, while he evacuated 
on the rug.


 When this was brought to his attention he 
would low with sorrow, and slowly climb the 
stairs to his room, and there spend the night 
in mournful lowing.

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