Some prescient pig poetry for a change of pace

 

The pig's possibility

The pig woke up one day with a yellowed B.A.

And, a job where she had to fold clothes every day.

Her hooves were aching and

her heart was breaking.

Our pig felt that she should be more

than a folder in a store.

 Sowicide came to  mind.

But, she vowed to fight some more.

She was a refined porcine

who couldn't afford to be so poor.

The customer requesting a baby tee

broke her from her reverie.

Her pen had a landlard

and rent was now overdue.

The pig decided she'd have to call her lone connection, Lou.

Lou had used his college degree properly

and now owned

his own temp agency.

Damn, she thought I don’t want to fold clothes or type

I deserve to be on a throne!

But the throne wasn’t forthcoming

So she picked up the phone.

"Hey, Lou what's up. I need a better job real bad."

"I’ll be at the pond," said Lou.

You see, Lou was a frog,

and conducted business from a lily pad.

Lou greeted her with tales of success and other assorted hype

He never once uttered Ribbit Ribbit-

That, you see, is just a stereotype.

The frog got her a decent gig,

to begin the next day.

“Ah-ha,” our now gainfully employed pig,

didn't even need a resume.

That night, she set out her work clothes-

which included pantyhose.

At  times like this,

she wished she had toes.

It seems necessary to tell the tale:

hooves cause damage to stockings

that have caused many a pig to wail.

Next Morning

The alarm went off and the pig

pushed the snooze button.

At times like this – she wished she was mutton.

Mutton slept late and

never felt blue.

They actually bragged about the fact

That they were only good for stew.

But she born a sophisticated swine,

forced to join this rank rat race...

Ah, such dark thoughts

were just cutting off her snout to spite her face.

Verna, her (heifer) neighbor, had earned her keep by stripping.

But, our hog couldn’t stop the salad days by undressing.

Being a refined porcine, at such times

felt like a curse, not a blessing.

On the way, she passed the mutton’s slum.

She felt sure that her day would never come.

Our valiant swine showed up on time.

And, that will conclude 

this particular pig's rhyme.