Pigs by Pablo Picasso
Beyond the fence
I watch them play
within their dirty domicile.
Sun-baked muck
cakes their backs
yet seems to make them smile
My mother chides
from yonder window
“Son, you best stay upwind!”
But as she tends to dinner
I cross the stile
to join my oinking friends.
With corkscrew tails
and flattened snouts
they fritter the day away.
How shall a boy of only ten
possess such will
his mother to obey?
The soiled bibs
display my guilt
as I face a mother’s wrath.
Returning with a willow switch,
the stoutest I can find.
Just in case a needed bath
is not all that’s on my mother’s mind.
11 comments:
Good one Dan! How could a young boy resist playin with the piggies.
Isn't that funny how parents would make you go get your punishment! Enjoyed!
Oh, this sounds written from the voice of experience! Are you the first to post again?
Jo, I don't know if it was such a bad idea, to have to fetch your own switch. How would that work with timeouts..you get to pick your own chair or corner and how long you sit?
Believe it or not, Jo J, as young a boy I did find my share of trouble. Some days seemed like I found a few other folk's also.
Hey, a boy should get to choose his own friends... even if they are pigs!
Good one, Dan.
Just another boy in training...all men are pigs aren't they, Shirley?
oh dan,, this was a delight not only to read,, but to visualize as well!!!!!
Congrads Dan on your pushcart nomination! Your story was wonderful as usual. Good luck!
Thanks Jodi, like pigs young boys seem to be drawn to mud, don't they??
Jo, I'm not certain I deserve such a nomination, but am extremely thankful for the opportunity to post my work with such a fine group of writers @ Word Catalyst!
Been there! Willow switch and all! What a great read. Thanks for sharing it.
I just loved that! This is the first time I've been to your site and I'm really glad I came.
Glad you enjoyed the read, Scott, and thanks for stopping by Angel.
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