February 14, 2008

Pigs

I watched a pool of blood in the moon
Light up the pit of the hollow of mud
Where the pigs went
And little ones were told not to go;
But I know they go,
And I know why they go;
Because they hear in the day
What I heard by the moon,
What was seen in the fog
As it disappeared from invisible lips,
That in the ugliest quickness takes you
Squeeling off to sleep.

No comments: