The Tale of Jango and the Pig (A Sestina)

My wife and I were just off to the town,
In my little Morris Traveller van,
(It was enough - I wasn't very big)
When the phone rang - "Hi!" it was my Dad.
"I need some help from you to move a pig."
"Get out," I said, "I'll have to go on down."

My wife objected, but at last backed down.
I promised to be quick, then we'd go to town.
And off I went to help Dad move this pig.
I really liked to drive that little van,
And I was happy to be needed by my Dad.
But when I saw that pig, I said: "That's BIG!"

The pig was strong and fast as well as big.
We tried to catch it, up the yard and down
And round the yard and round. I said "Oh, Dad,
"I should be going to take my wife to town."
He said: "But we must get it in the van."
"Hey? What?" I said, " That van won't take your pig!"

At last we got a rope around the pig.
We dragged and pushed and shoved. Boy, it was Big.
We got the thing crammed into my poor van.
The front wheels they were up - the back was down.
We wobbled and meandered through the town.
I cursed and moaned and groaned at my old Dad.

The pig was worse by far than was my Dad.
It drooled hot slobber down my neck, that pig.
We stopped for petrol on the edge of town.
The pig peered out the window. "Boy, that's Big!"
The pump man staggered back; almost fell down.
I paid, and started up my crowded van.

The pig began to strain; we swayed with the van.
I moaned and groaned and cursed at my old Dad.
Then a grunt, a stink, dark ordure running down
The windows at the back. "That beastly pig!"
The slaughterhouse at last. "Oh, boy, that's Big!"
As soon as he was free, the pig ran back to town.

My wife turned down the ride in my poor van:
We never got to town, thanks to my Dad.
But we enjoyed the pig: the chops were really big.

Copyright ©2004 by Sheena Cotton