The little piglet Adam was
born in a stable crib
.. in his case
there was no neat little bib...
For his premurder body
there'd be 'pork future' dibs
.. Re his trichinella
worms and Mad Pig Disease
there would be fibs...
For this little innocent
there was no predeath lib...
as July 4th celebraters
devoured his ribs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem