Piggies
Twelve steaming appetizers, artistically set.
Seven sea morsels in a bird's nest net.
Great pies of meat cooked in butter and sweat.
Puddings and pastries and a heart-thumping bet:
That you'll eat to live in and live to eat out,
And never see your little piggies wiggle, twist and shout.
The steering wheel gets closer every time you drive,
Huffing, puffing, car seat buffing, hefty hungry hide.
Your tires flatten daily, their pressure put to task.
The trunk is strewn with Devil Dogs and a strange unlabeled flask.
Puffed with dough and chocolate, your massive stomach changes --
Scattering civilians as a seismic needle rages.
No stopping fatty acid or blubber when it's fed.
The time will come when the heart is done
And a lump of lard is dead.
Don't mourn but learn and prosper
From a waste of God's good mud:
Moderation and self-sacrifice is the way to love a Bud.
Now down to the top -- with eyes as bright as phosphor!
Twelve steaming appetizers, artistically set.
Seven sea morsels in a bird's nest net.
Great pies of meat cooked in butter and sweat.
Puddings and pastries and a heart-thumping bet:
That you'll eat to live in and live to eat out,
And never see your little piggies wiggle, twist and shout.
Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016
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