Jesus and the Herd of Pigs

By SARAH M. WELLS

 

They scampered as if the devil

was herding them off the ledge,

each one following the others,

grass trampled black, muck up

to their perfect hams ready

for the knife, packing salt,

and market. It happened. I saw

the mud spray up their faces,

heard the whole pack panic,

charge, dash, splash and go under,

hooves kicking at the water,

pink snouts squealing and their eyes

rolling white. What will we do

with these two-thousand drowned

hogs, floating now in the twilight’s

silence? We stare over the edge

of the cliff, mud thick, boots

sucking and sinking, look back

at the man with chains and hands

loose along his sides, scars

like tributaries on his body,

standing calm beside the one

who did this. Look how much

this cost me. The meat is ruined

even if we fish it out with our nets.

 

Sarah M. Wells is the author of Pruning Burning Bushes and a chapbook, Acquiesce. Sarah’s poetry has been honored with two Pushcart Prize nominations.

[Click here to purchase your copy of Issue 07]

Jesus and the Herd of Pigs

Related Posts

poetry feature image

February 2021 Poetry Feature

REBECCA MORGAN FRANK
Nineteenth-century body snatchers / dug down to the head / and roped the body up, / chucked jewels back to dirt, little interest / in mementos, only / the corpses themselves. / That’s how we learned our bodies had a life / on their own, a worth / without us. / We can freeze and sell our eggs...

LitFest Poems 2021

LitFest 2021: Poems by Tommye Blount and Natalie Diaz

NATALIE DIAZ
He was calling in the bulls from the street. / They came like a dark river, / a flood of chest and hoof. / Everything moving, under, splinter. Hooked / their horns though the walls. Light hummed / the holes like yellow jackets. My mouth / was a nest torn empty.

poetry feature image

January 2021 Poetry Feature

CLIFF FORSHAW
What was your name? Who traced your frozen charm? / Your body’s with us still: you have no face. // Was it soft, or haughty? Tender, fearful, calm? / We’ll never know if it equalled the way your stance / tips a half-cradled breast from your folded arm.