a poem by Billy Collins:"This Little Piggy Went to Market"
is the usual thing to say when you begin
pulling on the toes of a small child,
and I have never had a problem with that.
I could easily picture the piggy with his basket
and his trotters kicking up the dust on an imaginary road.
What always stopped me in my tracks was
the middle toe—this little piggy ate roast beef.
I mean I enjoy a roast beef sandwich
with lettuce and tomato and a dollop of horseradish,
but I cannot see a pig ordering that in a delicatessen.
I am probably being too literal-minded here—
I am even wondering why it's called "horseradish."
I should just go along with the beautiful nonsense
of the nursey, float downstream on its waters.
After all, Little Jack Horner speaks to me deeply.
I don't want to be the one to ruin the children's party
by asking unnecessary questions about Puss in Boots
or, again, the implications of a pig eating beef.
By the way, I am completely down with going
"Wee wee wee" all the way home,
having done that many times and knowing exactly how it feels.
2 comments:
Oh my, I love me some Billy Collins. He can do no wrong in my eyes (or ears), but this is a particularly terrific one. Thank you, thank you.
You're welcome! It's one of those poems that I just couldn't keep to myself when I read it.
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