Get Your Premium Membership

The King Is Dead

It was only a Guinea pig, people eat them. Peruvian mountain folk do not have to starve, there’s no dearth. Many are bred for their special coats of course: the Slinky, the Peruvian, the Abyssinian, the American; the American is good with other guinea pigs - good to know. Our one must have been a mutt, we called it Elvis, it looked like Elvis in his fat period. It died quietly in the night. When my son got back from school I helped him bury it in the garden. I had a little burlap bag to put him in, it used to hold peanuts Elvis would have liked that.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.