This Little Piggy
Pay off,
Bribery.
It is my voice that rings out at night.
Between the branches of the trees.
On the face of the mountain.
Ringing out to septic bellies.
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy’s out for show.
This little piggy can’t be counted on.
This little piggy stayed home.
It hasn’t rained in over two hundred days.
Thunder echoes my tummy,
Lightning strobes the my walls.
Rain bejewels my body.
I am a saphire in the clouds.
This little piggy can’t be counted on.
This little piggy walks alone.
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy’s out for show.
A slab of stone falls forward
I am a dried flower pressed in paper thoughts.
When I am alone, again
I count my fingers and toes.
This little piggy went to market.
This little piggy walks alone.
This little piggy can’t be counted on.
This little piggy should a stayed, should a stayed home.
Should a stayed home.
Stayed home.
