Well my Cadillac now that the hog herding has begun big ones spray-gunned is this the permission we long for not in prose or stone but in action? electric-prodded out of the pen backed into the bloody aisle pigs chew pigs' tails whack the metal feeders charge the gate so it's beauty in the end we were after or serenity? slapped on the rump shoved at the truck who shall not ever again find anchorage never feared July never feared June every one with an inconsolable mother... My ballast I've scratched a key along the side of a white Camaro in hog heaven the place one finds community possible desirable my legendary embankment I will never get over you I cruise the high-pitched scream of the engine my tenderloin my tetracycline I want only to illuminate a tiny thing in a coat woolen cap and rubber boots marked by a spray of red paint just where our lovers die | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: IN ABSENCE FROM BECCHINA by CECCO ANGIOLIERI DA SIENA LAY OF THE TRILOBITE by MAY EMMA GOLDWORTH KENDALL THE COMMONPLACE by WALT WHITMAN AUTUMN; WRITTEN IN THE GROUNDS OF MARTIN COLE, ESQ. by BERNARD BARTON NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 27 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT SEA AND SHORE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON SONNET: 108 by LUIS DE CAMOENS TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE CURSE OF PROPERTY by EDWARD CARPENTER |