Poetry Exercise 6

Right, I didn't like the prescribed subject matter. So I've been a bit subversive.
First there's anapaestic [diddy-DUM] hexameter that I had to do on "directions to my home".
Second there's dactylic [DUM-diddy] pentameter (preferably ending in a spondee) on "cows".

1.
If you start from my house then to get there is really quite easy to do.
Make your way to the end of the road, then a right, then a left, then a left,
Then ahead at the fork, then a left up the hill till you get to the top,
Then a right, up my street and you're there. What a waste of your time that all was!


2.
Sorrowful moos in the fields of unholy disorder.
Whence do they come? From the Raising of herds by the Dark One.
Who would've guessed at his scheme to revive such an army?
Nevertheless on the surface they seem to be quite cute.
Evil? Insanity? Genius? Who gives a fat fuck!
Futile philosophy can't change the fact of the Un-Dead
Cows without milk are as useful as hookers with flat tits.
Bulls without beef are as useful as cock-flavoured ice-cream.
Please call a priest who can cleanse our miasma of bone life!


I think I got a bit carried away with the last poem...