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Book 28 Page 31
The pig’s in the corn
“Mum Ma, the pigs in the corn.”
I’ve shouted and screamed at him in scorn, “come out you pig.”
“Hurry up Ma, before he eats too much,
before that lousy rotten pig fills his enormous pig gut.”
“Get out of there, go on, get in the barn,”
and he looks at me as if to say, “no, this is my farm.”
“Get out you dirty rotten pig, / hiss! / scram,”
but he goes on ignoring me as if he was some kind of stubborn ram.
“Hurry up Ma! Oh my god he’s wrecking the place,
“and bring with you the sheep dog.”
And Ma finally arrives, shouting, as she sets loose our dog ‘Ben’
who makes that pig finally retreat ever so reluctantly back to his pen.
“Look Ma,” I say, “He’s eaten all the baby corn!”
“Go and lock the pig in the pen” Ma says, “as she shuts the gate tight.”
“Looks like there’s not going to be much food for us tonight.”
And so I can’t wait till the day when there’s roast pig on the table,
cause that pig of ours keeps escaping from the wooden piggery stable.
© Written by Dominic John Gill www.poetry.net.au email@example.com Created on 11/9/00