published in Volume 3, Issue 1 on February 8th, 1996
Porky withers and smiles in the reeds. Thirty years gone to a stuttering heart a smooth skull amiable in the low tide all corners rounded by time and the lapping wave. Sixteen-year-old Porky, they remember you around the dining table, over dinner Porky the dire warning, Porky the victim Porky the foundering archetype - Granny tells you in a tale smooth as a bone flute (Porky the marble under her tongue) He is a die with no faces, a mood gliding into my conciousness, lean with a fluttering sail. Granny makes you into a bundle feeds you to us, Porky the memory and I dream of Granny dancing you alive passing you around, and how you smile with leaves over your eyes and how you sink beneath for the last time traceless, ageless, utterly white.