Pigs carry giant whips
and shoot bullets
and spray their spit
at bats.

Bats fly and bump into rats.
Rats claim they are cousins
yet eat some bats and
become poisonous in their speech.
Bats cry out that everyone can have
a slice of the freedom cake
take one piece each.

Rats are hungry
because there's a hole in their tummy
so they tell the pigs to steal the whole cake.
Bats bat their eyelids to the darkness
realizing their alliance
was fake.

Taffeta watches the pigs atop the tables
Glass eyes and stitches where they're enabled
Guts pumping crimson liquid
Sewing 'em up, she's addicted
Family and friends recommend she withdraw
She responded with a twinkle in her eye and a dropped jaw
Scissors and string, that's all she'll need
Besides a corpse, of course, and a bit of stuffing
Lilac eyes affixed on a tattered pillow
Enjoying watching a weeping Willow
Her poor Porky pet has met his end
But everyone knows you can depend
Before your sweet pet starts to smell
On Taffeta's Taxidermy to stuff 'em well

What
         A
            Waste
They say looking down their noses.
She used to be so skinny.
Pretty even, all those moons ago.
See
      Her
             Now
Fat, lonely, and ashamed of herself.
Her humanity disappearing with every bite.
No one could love her... not a pig like her.

A pig in the grass
Sounds at scratching and bratching,
Scratching and bratching are sounds
Of the world at its last.

for all my preparation
this project begins to slip away
what if my great fantasy
hinges on a banal happiness?
the ink of ballpoint pen
takes me as far as sorrow's edges
i confess best to myself
wetness skin to skin, with sweat's sweet and
sour accompaniment is as close to happiness
as i can steer this sinking ship
as of late there's nothing left
of the sweat to cleanse my dead palate

I just watched a mini-documentary
on pig factory farming using
extreme confinement of individual pigs
in ‘gestation crates’:
I saw each poor pig
trapped within metal box-grates
which pressed against their flesh
stopping the pig from turning around
stopping the pig from walking around,
each pig suffers their whole life
standing in one direction
or slumped down on the ***** floor.
I saw pigs with open wounds, pressure sores, infections,
bleeding gums from biting the metal bars.
I saw pigs screaming in distress
Or suffering slumped down depressed.
I saw trapped pigs going mad
banging on the metal grates
distressedly trying to break free
and failing and slumping down depressed.

I ask myself
is there a humane way
to farm animals?
Such as free-range farming?

Never felt so good,
Till I made it to third,
Had a great time,
Because you were mine.

Thought we were in love,
Because you were a dove,
And I was a glove,
But you took me off,
And threw me in the pig trough.