I.N.R.I. by John Davies

There’s a rock outside the Mac
With a man’s head on it
Seems to have fallen from the sky
Like a tailless comet

Landed with quite a bump
That airborne gent
One eye tight closed in a painful wince
One eye wide open with the shock of the event

This chunk of Kemnay granite
Shaped like a human shell
Whiskers neat like a Holywood Jesus
Or a tidied-up John Bell

A cow approaches it fondly
For this is her new scratching-post
She rubs her golden neck along its edge
Dispelling all her itches to the coast

Four letters mark the granite base I.N.R.I.
I ponder their meaning initially:
“It never rains on Iona?”
Or perhaps what that cow is doing:
“I Nuzzle Rock Indolently.”