Llamas

Don’t take shit
Offa nobody
Attitude, man
They gaze coldly
Down those long snoots
Slowly chewing up
The cud
They fixin’ to
Spit in your face
They grunt,
Back in they throat
Like fixin’ to hawk
A wad of phlegm
Look out, dude!
Put ‘em out
With your average
Flock of sheep
and retire your
Worries about wolves.
Kick they ribs in
While the wooly fools
Run in circles.