A Cautionary Tail
There’s really something fine about
A pinkly up-tipped, snuffly snout;
A flattened disc of hairy nose
That seems to know who comes and goes.
Its twitchy ears are a delight,
Pointed both to left and right
Above bright eyes that keen survey
The dawning of each pig-filled day.
Such dainty feet supporting weight
That, foolish porker, seals its fate;
Its tail a question mark, defiant –
It will not go to death compliant.
But still, a pig is just a pig,
And eating much, becomes too big.
Man much prefers him pale and drab
With plastic parsley, on a slab.