Pig Children


		screaming wet and dripping born
		in bright and sterile light thrown
		randomly amidst the storm 
		of cultural delight.
		visions of birth remain
		as haunting bits, mislain
		fear and trembling 
		captives of the misadventure 
		life grants no surrender 
		as tossed on waves of 
		egoistic splendor.
		choked imagination dies
		in squallid blocks of haunted eyes
		where shadows leap
		with swiftly running feet
		and gargling gasp, the last
		one more despotic than
		the lies within the corners 
		of the mind so
		lost to mythic ways
		of the pig children of the gods.

		vacant staring window lit
		with shrunken heads no
		pithy statements made, but
		drive the broken to a 
		makeshift grave beneath 
		the barren landscape, for
		dogs to shit upon their rotting
		bones and howl a brief reprise.
		a pointless fate
		to pass along with smiles
		and mask a deeper hate as
		clouds piss down
		upon the wretched clown
		laughing at the striving lot
		in gluttonous relief, denied
		each pleasantry
		as evidenced the dusty light
		withheld in ignorance 
		from peasant streets for
		pig children of the dying gods.


© 1995-2001 A Hominid G

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