Author Foreword: Like a poem, life is often ambiguous. The values which we hold paramount are often subjective and the goals we set for ourselves are sometimes different from those expectations which are placed on us by friends, family, or society. There are no clear winners or losers, despite what we’re  told.

On a dusty,
Dilapidated farm,
Lived a pig — a
Magnificent pig!
The pig was
Nameless, but
The pig was
Notable; this pig,
We’ll call him, Pig,
Could talk!
He’d learned by
Listening to the radio,
Curling his lips and contorting
His snout in a
Unique way which
Allowed him to
Force out the words…
Guttural noises
At first, but with practice
Came proficiency,
Good enough to deliver
Long, impassioned speeches
Towards the other pigs
On the farm,
Who really could not
Understand him anyway.
It was something Pig enjoyed
Immensely, something the
Other pigs tolerated.
His handlers took notice,
Figuring they could
Cash-out at the
State Fair for
Best Pig in Show,
A $500 cash award!
Pig was happy to share his
Special-talent with the world,
In fact, he
Welcomed it! He
Counted down the days
‘Till Summer. And
Before he knew it, he was
Loaded onto a trailer,
Heading towards
The State Fair.
Pig saw some of the
Finest pigs in the
Tri-State area on the stage.
Tone, fully
Manicured with clean,
Polished hooves,
Powdery-pink skin;
Somatic-specimens.
However, Pig still felt confident
That none of those pigs
Could talk…
The pigs were led out and
Across the stage
In single file formation,
Flexing and snorting towards
The crowd.
A panel of judges
Approached the stage
Ominously —
Clipboards in hand.
Pig knew.
His time.
Was now.
It was time to share
His special-talent
With the world.
He broke free from his
Handler, trotting
Triumphantly across the stage,
Knocking over the
Microphone stand.
“Excuse me!” Pig squealed into the mic.
The crowd fell silent.
Pig, with the full attention of the
Crowd, proceeded to deliver
His most elegant speech
To date…
A concise, poignant
Synopsis of geopolitical tensions
Between the USA and China.
There was a slight
Pause before
The crowd erupted into laughter.
“Is this pig tryna talk?”
One of the judges
Squealed with delight,
“I’ve never seen such a thing!”
A few polite claps came
From the crowd, the
Children
Frozen in terror.
“This pig is gaunt! And oily. And
There ain’t no meat
On them bones!”
Another judge contested.
Some of the pigs snorted,
Seeming to imitate the judges.
“This is not a blue-ribbon pig,
By any means…”
The judge stammered,
“He’s an honorable mentions pig”
“At best!”
The other judges
Nodded in agreement, one
Scratched a big “X” onto
Their clipboard.
“I’m not even sure what that damn pig
Was talking about.”
Pig’s handler slung their
Hat on the ground and
Stomped off the stage.
Last place —
Pig hung his head in shame as
They loaded up the trailer.
He rode home in silence,
His mind ruminating.
Where had he faltered?
That should’ve been the
Best performance of his life…
Pig sighed,
Maybe he didn’t understand
Humans after all.
The truck stopped and the
Trailer opened.
Pig’s heart
Sank.
It was a familiar
Place, but somewhere
He’d hoped to
Never visit.
It was a slaughter house.
There were many
Other pigs,
Some of them with
Ribbons.
Handlers smiling as they
Led their pigs up the
Ramps, fists
Stuffed with cash.
But in those final moments, as
Pig trotted up and onto
The conveyor belt…
He smiled,
An eternal smile,
Finding solace that
He was NOT a
Blue-ribbon pig.
He was a greasy,
Last-place-Pig, and
He would probably
Taste terrible —
At best.

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