Jimmi Canada Poet Imagism

Suffering Pig

We found each other in a roadside bar in some desolate place,

she saw me from the other side,

the band that was playing wasn't carrying, 
so I decided to let her come approach me...


I carry with me a soft gaze as she politely understands me,

her eyes captured my dreams for the next three days...

It was a heartfelt intervention-

we had a couple drinks,

we understood what the local talk was about,

and with tales becoming tangles, 
there became less need for words,

only laughs and strokes,
...following of vibrations around the room,

and the danger...

Because I thought you had forgot-

that one tiny moment in time-

when it happens to me,

oh so fine.


She keeps blessing me with the utmost intelligence,

as I sit not thinking,

like kittens on pedestals,
before they learn to break the rules,

just like energetic fools...

I found character unlike anything I have been able to endure.


But anger evades my soul,

and if I accept anger-
I accept an angry soul,

and if I wished upon a bowl
to solve my whole whole,

I'd tender you gold...


Please make my soul,

in this age of 'you go to school,'

and 'I cant help but drool,'

oh what foreign mystique 
could evade those wide eye's? 

I know how I fall in far
and then out the other side.


Like my grip on my ride,

on the freeway doin' 95...

Legal as being high in some hippy's eye.


But I am still just a suffering pig
who doesn't eat sorbet,

who justifies readiness 
with real time face,

who lives out his days
traditional and gay,

giving out blessings to people who should thank.

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