the lucky piglet has brown rot.
its cloven eyes mouldered.

its toothpick legs collapsed;
its lucky penny corroded in september.

year’s end was rife with mischance
& raw deals, death & bad weather:

next year we’ll construct a grapefruit sow
& hope our luck holds out

red eye flight
too damn early
to save a few bucks

the wind says fuck it & settles down,
buys a little house with a nice yard, a
modest car, a Ford, maybe, a boat it
keeps on the lake near town until one
day the sun shows up exasperated,
saying what are you doing?, the clouds
in tow & whinging as they do & the
wind shrugs & says you told me to go
& the clouds start crying & the sun
says now look what you’ve done & the
wind says not my clouds, not my
rainstorm & blows the door shut
& returns to the bath

unlike your iphone
you have a right
to repair your heart

bruh

I regret to inform you
there are no more hot
toddy peanuts as they
tasted like ass & not
in a good way so much
so that even the birds
shit them undigested
on your new cybertruck
which is ironic in a way
you wouldn’t understand

I’ve taken
the root beer
float hostage
& there will be
no negotiating

unless you got
a pint of chunky
monkey because
who can resist

not this root beer
float that’s for sure
so get going mister
good humor man

please be assured our
associates make safety
our #1 priority except
during acts of God
but God acts in
mysterious ways &
who can say it’s not
our shareholders’ invisible
hands pulling strings
but please do partake
in these free samples
which are individually
wrapped for your
sanitary pleasure