Society Magazine

POEM: On the Way to Chennagiri, Or: A Silly Line of Thought

By Berniegourley @berniegourley
POEM: On the Way to Chennagiri, or: A Silly Line of Thought

On the way to Chennagiri, I passed the military dairy farm, and wondered if they also grew blackberries and raspberries. Or, on the contrary, was it strictly a dairy - that would be so like the military. Stick with the primary, don't distract with a secondary. But then - for the military - milking cows would already have to be tertiary, and, so, growing wild cherries would be quaternary, or - more likely - quinary [because, of course, they'd also need skills, veterinary.] But maybe the veterinary clinic is a subsidiary, or maybe they hire labor, temporary - maybe former service members volunteer - veteran veterinarians, so to speak.

Then I had a thought that was very scary, what if armed revolutionaries or radical reactionaries made a play for that dairy. The military would have to call on the constabulary, because the cows would be no help at all.

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