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Tuesday, January 21, 2014


With a lightly heard
"Pew Pew Pew Pew"
Repetitive sound from his repulsors
Hoverpig made his rounds
Exactly six inches above the grounds

Pretending to sniff for truffles under the clump of trees
Tipping his snout to the earth
Snuffing out light jets of air
Poofing up little leaves and pine needles in his activity

Then on to do a few loops underneath the bird feeder
A few turning into a dozen as Hoverpig works up a frenzy
Becoming a pink blur that provokes a small dust devil
Made up of the empty husks and shells of eaten feed

Coming straight off the feeder and making a bee line for me
Hoverpig comes to a silent halt two feet away
His dead electronic eyes strangely alive
In their oversized big brown way

Hoverpig blinks his eyelids at me
Adorned as they are with cheap fake eyelashes
It has the desired effect upon me
And I open the door to let him in

Hoverpig is a superior pet pig in every way
Except for when I try to pet him
His skin is not warm
His hair not as prickly
His nose not as wet
As the pet pig I dreamt of as a child

Or as the real pig that Hoverpig surely dreams of being
In his Hoverpig dreams
In his false electronic nights