Sunday, April 23, 2017

Poem: The Fat Feast of Pigs by James K. Blaylock

The Fat Feast of Pigs
by James K. Blaylock, 3-22-17 

what with the fat feast of pigs
there ought to be an ort to eat,
but alas, they aren't leaving anything behind for anyone else, so we starve,
within our guts begs an unending desire to feed that lustful inferno...
lest the skeletons go limp beneath such weakening conditions, bones
yet, one day, these convoys'll strive for an upper leg, maybe even a thigh,
surely, with the proper amounts of seriousness and gruffness we shall
prevail: perhaps overshadowing their overblown hail and utmost betrayals

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