by Erik Hare
(Saint Paul, MN, USofA)
Late at night I watched the tube, and while my eyes were fairly glued
At the economic graphs and stats they’d all excitedly report
I resolved to flip the channels in a search for greater annals
That made sense of all the tales that flew by rather short.
When they got us to the trillions for the banking world’s support
“What’s it mean?” I did exhort.
With no one there to hear me there was nothing else to steer me
Until the desperate quiet moment found itself cut quickly short
In the door there was a flap which then let out a sudden slap
As if the cat returned from hunting and would now be my consort.
Yet I saw there not my cat, but a pinkish pig inside that port,
Said that piggy, “Snort!”
My attention was divided as the news became excited
By a breaking set of headlines shown which struck the gloom athwart
There’s a flu that might just kill us shown in graphics meant to thrill us
And on Fox they called for all illegal aliens to deport.
But the little big eared stranger was composed as if in court,
Said the piggy, “Snort!”
“Have you come here just to ice me? Or in some strange way entice me?”
Came my inquiry to the nature of the porcine sense of sport.
“Do you bring a new disaster to our world that’s ever faster,
As if a dare to see how badly you can make us all contort?
Should we run or should we cower? Just drink liquor by the quart?”
Said the piggy, “Snort!”
I was past exasperation in the strange new situation
When I saw the teevee nooze had turned more tense with each report.
There were cases in this city and it wasn’t looking pretty
And vacations south to beaches all were ended rather short.
But the stranger only stood there as his ears he did contort,
Said the piggy, “Snort!”
“To come amid the dreadful gloom you clearly are a sign of doom,
Though in Revelation there’s four horseman, not your sort.
As you sit there quite pathetic don’t you know this is pandemic?
This will soon have traveled global via every known transport!”
Yet the pink one shifted gently, changing legs for his support.
Said the piggy, “Snort!”
I could feel myself grow manic as through taken by a panic
I would have to shoo this stranger out and cut his visit short
Yet the message of his presence seemed to be there in his essence,
As a humble happy figure quite content in his consort.
Could it be that this small stranger is no more than he purport?
Said the piggy, “Snort!”
While the screen was brightly dazzled I could see why I was frazzled
So I clicked it off and let the darkness do what e’er it may.
There’s no tranquilizing meds like a lack of talking heads
As I thought of simple steps to keep the sickness far at bay.
That’s when the little stranger turned to take himself away.
Said the piggy, “Call me when you guys stop freaking out, OK?”
Comments for The Craven
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