Pythia, the muse and the medium of our resident Porcine Oracle, continues to send us her poetic aspirations. She has been hoping to achieve that great honor of an actual page for herself in the Best Loved Poetry section of the Porkopolis Library.
The poem I have listed below is new, and may be the one that hikes up her status, just like she did to her skirt in the picture that accompanied it. I have already admonished her on the photo (included above), suggesting she promote her words’ timelessness, rather than her temporal charms.
This poem suggests to me that the time is right for Pythia, and I have requested from her a full bio, contact info for her agent and publicist and a permission slip from her family – all necessary for any contemporary young poetess to be considered for Best Loved Poets status and web site inclusion. Here, for your appreciation:
Pythia
a day of my life with the Porcine Oracle
- Crowned head, wreathed throat, the Porcine Oracle
- settles next to me as I await him in his cave.
- The coke lines of another day go snorting
- up into that old pig’s truffle-snout.
- His alphabet assembles on the horizon
- just as the dawn breaks.
- Then the purposeful coming together of words begins
- like starlings shifting in their sheltering trees.
- Mind afire with prognostication, body oscillating,
- a motion at once harmonic and hermetic.
- The Oracle is a wellspring of wisdom and presumption,
- mountain-fresh, yet bearing silt and muck.
- He is a pig that can can grok humankind,
- he becomes part of the deeds of every man,
- circumstance’s victim and redeemer,
- in his words he transcends human potential.
- And Everyman is part of the Oracle – amoral, immoral, chatty.
- They imagine themselves in the Oracle’s daily trinkets.
- Speculating and supposing they have skills far beyond
- the actual flea circus of their lives.
- Later, noon-tranced, the old pig sleeps in the shade,
- indisposed with the god of the vine.
- My duties for the day dispatched, I sip Merlot and
- consider his words – rife now, wounded leaves so soon.
From the Porkopolis Archive:
- Porcine Oracle – a presumption of porcine wisdom
- Lousy Doggeral – another of Pythia’s poems
- Pythia’s prose poem, Wasting time