And this little piggy lied
WEWEWEALL THE WAY!
in his speechesin his columnsin his home
in his mirrorsin his cups
and even in his pomes

The flood took all the trailers off the flats
and broke the gas lines
Half of Main St. burned

She doesn't raise her handbut traces
with her fingertipsover the orange's skin
gentle circlesfor hours caresses
that plumpness as she gazes
at shreds of clouds above the City