There once was a girl who loved bacon
The smell of it would start her hands to shaking
It's hard to define
She loved it divine
I once saw her chasing a swine
With fork and knife in hand
She was determined to eat that ham
But it ran to **** fast
I watched as it past
With her giving chase
To her it was just bacon with a face
She wanted that meal
Despite the pigs squeal
That poor pigs plight
Was a sad sorry sight
It was hard to imagine
What next happened
It turned and ate her instead
Now that ***** is dead

                  The End!

You know that voice inside your head,
That whispering ***** that wants you dead,
A hell grip tease, knows every fault,
That sly little snitch that you can’t halt.

A slick negotiate this voice of yours,
Knows the Band-Aid tricks that you adore,
Rough ***, play drugs, drink all day,
Says **** yourself, you’re a throw-a-way.

So listen crisp, you’ve got an outside chance,
****-can the guilt and the worry romance,  
Stoke this moment, jive the second you’re in,
Don’t end your life, let the ****** begin.

It’s a hollow *** world, we all wearing shells,
Hard knocks, beat downs, sad farewells,
So write your ****, make your memories scream,
Claim your poem, tip type the bad dreams.

We can’t make it easy but we can hear,
A community listens, maybe offer a tear,
It’s a bruise harsh life, so take this hand,
Black and white your ****, no reprimand.

enticing and toxic is the remedy for all of this

chasing rainbows with short lived climaxes

based on the painting “Prince Pig and The Second Sister” by Paula Rego

my hooves meant nothing

to her. She sat in my lap and stroked my chest
as if she was the

prince. It took everything in her power to reassure me
that I wouldn’t be slaughtered in the morning, but she looked
past me – an empty

gaze. Come dinnertime tomorrow I would sit on a platter and
she would feed off of me with an apple stuffed in my mouth
and a knife in

my shoulder. On some level, I cannot blame her – her hair is
caught between my hooves when we make love, and my grunting
keeps her up at night. She is worthy of soft fur

and slender fingers. I am desired, but only until I am fat enough to eat.
Her legs tighten on my hips but she is cold, like the chamber where
my blood will drain.

Oh, plate of bacon, how you tempt me so
With your sizzle and your crunch I do crave
A gift from Gods wrapped in a tasty bow
There are no leftovers to even save

Why can't I feel myself grow full from you?
There are no others that can be as true
Your fame is unmatched by any before and it's easy to see with such allure

With every new bite, the tears grow stronger
This small plate won't last for that much longer
As the bacon leaves, I fear what's to come
The plate is bare, with not even a crumb

Oh, plate of bacon, I still need you so
With hope, I pray for more bacon to show

Who are you to tell me I'm no good?
***** you
And your classy ways
I'd rather be a pig
Than a trained dog
Be myself
And just let life
Take me far away in this universe of gray