< pigpen mon amour >

[rayheinrich]

         



                                                < pigpen mon amour >

                                        "words are cheap
                                        and readily available
                                        and beautiful
                                        and unbearable"

                                        there's this tiny cult in a tiny box
                                        squeezed into one of the vast attics of the internet

                                        none of its believers are in that box
                                        they're in their own boxes
                                        in different attics
                                        in different worlds

                                        some nights you'll find them
                                        (if you can)
                                        performing their ancient rites

                                        which somehow involve stuffing words
                                        (the ones mentioned above)
                                        through glass fibers as thin
                                        as those fuzzy hairs you find on the bottoms of cats
                                        yet long enough to cross oceans

                                        they don't think of themselves as lonesome creatures

                                        sometimes

                                        but in this cult they've found companions
                                        and with their help

                                        sometimes

                                        they get the joke

                                                ----




Hollywood ending:

[=4][=2][=2]

An old aphorism:

Life is a joke, but sometimes it's a good one.

Question:

Maybe using pigs was too literal and I should have used armadillos instead?
       

paintings by mage (https://mage.space), photograph stolen from web, photoshop by ray

The quote in the poem is one I copied into an old journal of mine.
I'd attribute it, but I can't find where it came from.

Please feel free to go as off-topic as you possibly can.

Elaboration:

I most prize comments that describe what you thought and felt when you were reading
the poem, irrespective of the content of the poem. Also encouraged are off-topic comments
(what you had for breakfast this morning or anything about cats - I live with eight) and poems
that answer the one above (Leanne loved doing that). As well as corrections to grammar,
spelling, and suggestions for improved wording of lines. And yes, it's not lost on me that all
my "poems" aren't poems; they're really multiple-media cuz they contain images as well.