United States, (contemporary)
Paradise
with an air of whispering.
— Joseph Conrad
- Running, like a startled miniature
- English ship around the bovine
- Holier-than-thou, cud-chewing
- Armada, a pig will never –
- Scratching a merry dance of cork screw
- Tail against grass –
- Piss like an ungrateful
- Child in the wind or on a cousin
- If it can help it. Mother Mary help me
- Say the sow, tireless and heaving
- On her side for suckling pigs,
- Has a look in her eye emulated by all the great
- Religious figures of the Holy Mysteries. A cloud
- Covers the moon and God’s squealing mob wakes
- In the still brooding chill of an inscrutable
- Intention that never said you must
- Dine on the pink
- Tapestry of flesh or thumb your nose
- At those that do. Skip to
- The nineteen ninety-two Italian Conference
- On International Jewish Pig Farming, where,
- Over a loudspeaker, a Peruvian Jewish
- Pig farmer claimed Israelis had lost
- Their moral beauty, because, like all other
- Farmers working in mud from Peking to Oskaloosa,
- They now owned swine and acted like it.
- You can bet your paycheck the Israeli
- Contingent gnashed their teeth, swearing
- On their ancestors only
- An Israeli could raise an authentic
- Jewish hog near the Sea of Galilee and wouldn’t
- Budge from that position. Nevertheless, International
- Jewish charcuteries and smokehouses evoke a fear
- So deep in the nostrils of the enemy, their memory
- Brings dread after years have obliterated
- Every trace. Even if J.P.F. isn’t the most
- Controversial of all vocations, it is
- Hard in the extreme for the naked eye
- To capture. One specialist, crossing
- His heart and hoping to die after a thousand
- Nights of Jewish Pig fanning, was inhaling
- A mixture of holy water
- And a rare gas, when a cloud began
- To materialize over his small
- Brazier. He dropped a pinch of fragrance
- Onto the fire. An apparition
- Appeared, lying on its side, more
- Exquisite in hue and beauty, Selah!, than any
- Living thing he ever laid eyes upon. Only
- Words could describe the barely
- Visible turn of her cloven foot, the ruby
- Flare of her’ nostril. So boychik? she said
- without saying it, holding
- A nosegay of iridescent blue
- And fragrant flowers that vanished
- And reappeared at her desire… He woke
- In a private sanitarium in the alps, a bouquet
- Of alpflowers cradled in his arms, swaying
- On a porch swing above the cool
- Meadow of clouds, looking down, halleluyah,
- Over the green blanket rustling in the light
- Jabber of breeze
- And then his eyes glazed over.
About the Poet:
Roger Weingarten, United States, (contemporary) is a poet, editor and educator.
Weingarten has published more than ten poetry collections and co-edited over seven poetry anthologies. He was involved in the establishment of the MFA in Writing and the Postgraduate Writers’ Conference at Vermont College and taught there from 1980 to 2008.
He has also taught at many other colleges, universities, and writers’ conferences around the country. Weingarten has received numerous awards for his poetry, including a Pushcart Prize, a Louisville Review Poetry Prize, a National Endowment for the Arts Award, and an Ingram Merill Foundation Award in Literature. [DES-11/19]
Additional information:
- Work with Roger Weingarten and discover his art