Made in Yorkshire
1949 was the Year of the Ox.
Which makes you loyal and hard working,
a born leader, forever – wait for it – patient.
Compatible with snakes and rats - well,
that’s true enough - and (your lucky numbers
being one, three, twelve, fifteen, thirty-three
and thirty-five) accounts for your never
winning the Lottery, not even the odd tenner
to cover outlay. You could have chosen family
birthdays or our anniversary, if you knew it,
instead of picking owt at random, sticking to it,
come what may. But then – it’s in the Mail so
must be true (did you know you’re incompatible
with sheep?) – you always were cussed.
So if your birthplace had been Beijing,
not Bedale, you’d be a domesticated ungulate.
Instead of a bull-headed tyke.