My Sexuality
by Sparrow

Yestersay I went to the Duchess Country Fair;
my daughter and I watched cows being milked.
A suction device pulled the milk out of their
udders, and squirted it into big 8
gallon glass containers.
We watched the cow’s behinds.
I noticed, for the first time,
that the vaginas of cows are directly below
their assholes.
Every time a cow shits, some of her shit
dribbles over her vagina.

I imagined fucking a cow.
It seemed unsatisfying.
Cows have very few emotions.
I want the animal I am fucking to respond to me.
Fucking a cow would be like fucking a suitcase—
except for the weird thought:
“Omigod! I’m fucking a cow!”

In another shed, I saw a sheep’s vagina,
as she lay on her back, having her hoofs
trimmed.
Her vagina was large and
human-looking, as I’d been told.
It frightened me—its fragility, its delicateness.
I feared that a sheep might enjoy sex exactly as I do;
that a sheep and I might reach orgasm together.