Pork

A fun poem, title seemed appropriate :)

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1. Pork

Mama's incense -
roasted markers
left tangled within
my stuffing shaded
knit,
sweet smellin' of swine!
Homely nostalgia
of a many gurgled exclamation
“bloody hell! Is all that for me?”
leaving our guts smiling,
meaty juices wettening
our lips,
memories -
such warm reminders
of home and humor,
envelop me
like fresh crackling,
Perhaps i'am a trottered beast
sweltering in fondness'
overbearing heat,
a sizzler in my socks.

Maybe less pork for me next time..
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