United States, (b. 1984)
Miracle of the River Pig
— behold, the whole herd of swine ran violently down a steep place into the sea, and perished in the waters.
- *
- Animals (like women) are cast in leading roles in plays of superstition. One story, if an observant countryman is right, has as plot the alleged inability of a pig to swim. Her sharp trotters swing — so the story goes — in circular motion in the water till she cuts her own throat. This, the countryman cheerfully claims, did not happen to a sow who, awaiting her litter and finding her sty flooded, patiently swam round it unharmed until rescue arrived.
- *
- Either help me —
- or cast me out, Sweet Jesus.
- *
- I met him coming from the tombs.
- Violent men always turn me mealy-squealy;
- the rack & screw
- bring on the gristle in pristine —
- vaulted castles, brined swine
- unwedding my mistake.
- Call the priests, I’m burning,
- I’m evaporating,
- I’m pouring unsanctioned milk from unleashed tits —
- I’m a sin, a stain, a bray in the hay,
- send some boys to piss on me,
- make me pay —
- Baptize me till
- I’m clean & free & with you wholly
- holy
- chicharrones
- chomp me between your fucking teeth —
- *
- My almost-mother-in-law served me pigs’ feet on a plate —
- her son, my insanity,
- my love — y mi diablo
- & I, his evil porcine brewing
- in the sopa de pat
- slow-simmered pigs’ feet soup.
- *
- Years ago a young porker fell into an old bramble-covered well. The water level was, I don’t know, some 10 ft. down, the water deep. It took us half an hour to borrow a ladder and come back. She was still swimming round and round. The well mouth was too narrow for a man to go down there after all, but then we saw that she-pig had her forelegs over one rung, her snout under the rung above. We raised that ladder up slow. The pig held on until she reached the top and we hefted her up. Then she shook herself, grunted, and trotted off—her throat unscratched and utterly unperturbed.
- *
- The boy I met at the swine barns
- fucked me in the piss-yellow straw.
- I sucked a dick in the front seat while the pigs barked
- near the dump on the northern tip of town.
- There’s the cemetery where I will not be buried.
- (Will my ex-fisher king be scattered at sea? —
- I will not join him, I, ex-fisher queen, ex voto,
- ex-girlfriend, ex madness).
- My sweet rolls,
- color me a memory, an unlit candle,
- brindle me backward,
- toward the bordertown. Cane me. Sweet tea me.
- At the fairgrounds,
- some little piggy’s losing her virginity,
- her sanity,
- strung in a bedroom doorway.
- *
- — Selves like iridescent, shining, speckled
- shit in the Río Nuevo
- frothy foaming stinking desert river
- desert in the new world —
- how old were you? fifteen & blessed as
- Santa María,
- I’m that lucky pig in the river —
- cut my trotters,
- strike my blue-butt,
- handle me,
- sell me at auction,
- devour me.
- *
- Bruja y de la chingada
- slap my ass
- pinch my nipples
- flay my skin, dip me in chile & eat me
- a treat
- pickled
- even better
- pigs in a blanket —
- swine-swindled,
- this little piggy went down to the river to drown her baby
- this little piggy never came home
- this little piggy slit her own throat, a fish-hooked embryo
- *
- Down the river did glide with wind and with tide,
- A pig with vast celerity;
- And the devil looked wise as he saw how the while,
- It cut its own throat.
- *
- His mother eats pigs’ feet
- dried & deep fried
- con chile & limón —
- my demons in them.
- *
- Another example of a swimming pig was witnessed in 1946 during the testing of the Atom-bomb on the Bikini atoll. A total of 3,352 animals were placed around the test site to gauge the effects on creatures at various proximities to the detonation. Pig 311 was seen swimming calmly in the sea after the explosion and was duly rounded up and sent to Washington’s Zoological Park where she led a normal existence with no outward signs of radiation sickness except infertility.
- *
- Mom bought my white communion dress,
- wafer on my tongue,
- uneven socks & curlicues like piggy tails,
- white papal smoke
- up the river channel to little caves,
- white, potbellied river stones —
- I’ve been re-formed from a failed levee,
- a desert flood that re-created the Salton Sea,
- its unnatural river flow, its farming runoff, leaky
- discharge, dumping
- wastewater stench —
- I’m on the fence, I’m border trash, I’m a glowing fish a radiant transgression,
- I’m unsanitary,
- insanity
- little piggy swimming
- & the devil inside me.
- *
- There was no sign of any kind that its throat had been cut. In fact, it was quite lively when being returned to its pen.
- *
- Maquiladoras y panaderias (how sweet my belly, my pan dulce)
- pay tribute to my glove & aprons, discarded tires, trash, dead animal channels,
- sweet little piggy, swim —
- blow foam into Calexico streets & downtown, mosquito my open windows,
- boil my wounds
- (I’m a disease)
- — in my potbelly
- simmer me
- sex me
- leave me
- to summer heat
- singe me to my pen —
About the Poet:
Jennifer Suzanne Givhan, United States, (b. 1984), is a poet, novelist, and transformational coach. Her family has ancestral ties to the Mexican-American and indigenous peoples of New Mexico and Texas. She holds a MA from California State University Fullerton and a MA in Fine Arts from Warren Wilson College. She teaches composition at Western New Mexico University.
Givhan is the author of five full-length poetry collections, including Rosa’s Einstein (University of Arizona Press), and the novels Trinity Sight and Jubilee, which were finalists for the Arizona-New Mexico Book Awards.
Her honors include a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship in Poetry, a PEN/Rosenthal Emerging Voices Fellowship, the Frost Place Latin@Scholarship and the 2015 Lascaux Review Poetry Prize. Givhan’s work has appeared in over sixty literary journals and anthologies, including Prairie Schooner, Indiana Review, Rattle, Cutthroat, and The Los Angeles Review, The New Republic, The Nation, The Boston Review, The Rumpus, Salon, and many others. [DES-07/22]
Additional information:
- More about Jennifer Givhan at: www.jennifergivhan.com
From the Porkopolis Archive:
- PIG 311, the swimming pig was witnessed in 1946 during the testing of the Atom-bomb on the Bikini atoll, was also commemorated in poetry by US poet Margaret Ryan circa. 1979. Read it here at Porkopolis.org.