the pig

it is a bright monday dawn

and the farm is stirring

bodies rise from the hay like a wave in the ocean

lifting their heads to greet the new light

the air is cold but my shelter is warm

so i stay inside; push my nose into the straw

i wait here for the man to bring me my food

he will do this every morning

until the day comes when he will take me away 

i hear him speak with his daughter

when they come to see me 

and he tells her that pigs are smarter than dogs

he tells her this often; perhaps she doesn’t remember

nobody mentions that they never kill the dogs

i feel as though there is little i understand.