I've Always Wanted a Pig Farm:

[billy]

Ever been on a cross
country walk with pig shite
slapping you round
like an old punchy boxer
you lift a farm gate
instantly you're carried
two miles over meadows
wild flowers and rape
seeded carpets irrigated
by shallow rills criss-crossing
open veins bleeding out
a not unpleasant stench
flies from a sloppy sty
perfume of pig pleasantly pastes
its Eau de toilette on the sinus
a slight heady spell signals
the onslaught of choke
gag reflex kicks in
as throat expands
expelling mushy bits of carrot
peas and cabbage you had for dinner
the countryside
the porkers arse
what a grand experience.