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of fresh road kills, she swaggers
through her slop, oblivious of the piglets she crushed
during last night's slumber,
squishing through the splits of her thick, cloven hooves.
The last boar which tried
to straddle her fabulous girth fractured both forelegs.
She dined on his carcass
for days, grunting in the shade. --Larry Thomas
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The Southern Poetry Anthology, Volume VIII: Texas: Volume 8
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