But That's... Another Story! Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Her mother died
giving birth

so from that day to
this

we considered her OURS
one of the family.

Ok, so...she was
a pig

but oh such
a pretty pig

and we kept her
in the caravan

reared her as one
of our own

almost considered her as
human.

Oh the squeals of
children &...pig.

Well, she grew & grew
until the day came for her

to be serviced.

Our maiden pig
a fine Welsh White gilt.

Now, being English
amongst the Welsh

I knew you needed
a license

to move a pig
from area to area

so, I presented my self
to our two man police force.

Well, of course
they had licenses

for the this of that
or the that of this

but alas
no license

for the moving of
a pig.

They had somehow
run out.

The licenses not the pigs.

So, they gave me
a license for a crane

& crossed out the bit
not pertaining to a pig.

I thought they might
ask me

how many wheels
on your pig or

what type of machinery
is your pig?

But when it was done
it was done

a kind of
Frankenstein form

half crane/half pig.

And I was free now
to move my pig

where so ever I wished.

And so I brought her
to the boar.

And then there was the time
there was a pig born

without an arsehole

(not an uncommon
occurrence they told me) .

And so I set off for the vets
on my motorcycle and sidecar

but
that's

...another story.