By Tom A. Berry
 

Once every year,
     When I was a lad,
We’d butcher our livestock,
     Me, my brothers, and Dad.
We were pastoral folk,
     Living out on a farm,
And providing our own food
     Was part of the charm.

We’d open the cows
     And sort through the parts,
Harvesting not just the meat,
     But kidneys, livers, and hearts.
And Sometimes we’d find
     An unpleasant site,
A beast filled with fluke worms,
     A gross parasite.

As a boy just turned eight
      I needed to know
About these flukes which resembled
     Black nails from finger or toe.
They’d wriggle and wiggle
     And try to hide in the veins,
Disgusting creatures,
     Worthy only of shame.

My father said "Son, you just
     Don’t understand
"Even these creatures were made
      By God’s Hand
"And a boy that’s your size
     And a boy that’s your age
"Should understand that everything
      Goes through a change,

"And if left alone,
     In their bile duct rooms,
"Those flukes will mature
     And make some cacoons,
"And one day next spring,
     What a glorious surprise,
"From the rear-ends of cows
      Will come white butterflies!"
 
 

"Wherever you go
     You’ll find that it’s true,
"In any pasture of cows
     You’ll find white butterflies, too."

He was my father, of course,
     So there was no reason to doubt,
Immediately I told everyone
     I met about
The miracle of white butterflies and
     Where they come from,
So I grabbed a big jar and
     I caught myself some.

I took white butterflies to my teacher
     In a jar with some holes,
Then held-up some flukes,
     Right under her nose.
I tried keeping flukes alive,
     In some blood on my dresser,
And when I got older,
     I even showed my professor.

But no one ever even said "Bah!"
     No one ever said "Nay!"
They always just smiled
     In that "That’s interesting" way.
Then one day, at thirty,
     While sitting out on a fence,
I was watching some cows,
     And watching butterflies dance.

When a stranger came up
     And was about to casually pass,
I asked if he’d ever seen butterflies
     Fly out a cow’s ass.
He began to giggle,
     And he began to snicker,
And when he saw I was earnest
     He laughed like he was drunk on
     Cheap Liquor.

It dawned on me then,
     Yes the light finally started to glow,
That I had been duped,
     And had put on quite a show.
My Dad, that old jack ass,
     It was all ‘cause of him,
I’m sure he was laughing it up
     With the angelic host seraphim.

But I wouldn’t get bitter,
     No I wasn’t through,
You see, that’s my boy out there,
     Watching cows pooh,
And if a cow passes a butterfly
     He’ll let me know,
Until that day comes, though,
     The jokes on him, don’tcha know!