*Photo courtesy of Evangeline Vickery
Dirty pig head up on the road rail.
Placed their by loyal disciples.
You can see it,
grimy, piggy, severed.
In another death, perhaps served upon a platter.
Blank eyes, snout stiff, hairs bristling.
An object of desire.
Bacon crisping in a cast iron skillet.
Fuego, framing ham, tongue clears the yearning lips.
Piggly wiggly bubbles and squeek.
Sausage links, hash hearted haberdashery.
Kitchen succulence whiffed off of my cotton coat, later that day.
Damn, I’m hungry again.
Little Stainsy Whippawill,
sitting on a windowsill.
Who’s spoon to upend next?
in staining, an unstained breast.
Ketchup, mustard, sauce of soy,
Stainsy’s chaos brings him joy,
but others, much chagrin.
White blouses are often best,
to capture an unctuous oily mess.
Stainsy, leaves quiet an impression.
Despite your care with spaghetti,
Stainsy is always ready,
to Pollockize your favorite suits.
So, beware your feeding locomotion,
Stainsy’s truest soul devotion,
requires full and clumsy spoons.