Will Nocturnal Pigs Acquire A Taste For Flesh?
The Bahçe, (Garden)
With apologies to Roger McGough
A Poem for Beril and Alpay , who want to keep you blighters out!
For years there have been no plants in our garden.
People hurrying through the estate avoid it
like the plague. Birds steer clear
and the nane (mint) of course is withered.
Trees lean away from it,
and at night it reflects, not the moon,
but the blackness of its own emptiness.
There are no plants in the garden.
But there is life here. There is life …
Nocturnal pigs glide between the sprinkler heads.
They love it here. They breed and multiply
in sties hollowed out of the mud
and lined with old flippers and face masks.
They live on dead plants and rotting things,
drowned pets, plastic and assorted excreta.
Rusty cans they like the best
Holding them in tiny trotters
their teeth tear easily through the tin,
and poking in a snout, they noisily suck out
the putrid matter within.
There are no plants in our garden.
But there is life there. There is life …
For on certain evenings after dark
armies of pigs surface
and look out at those houses nearby.
Where, in bathrooms,
children feed village bread to plastic ducks,
and on terraces
coveted yachts have long since run aground.
Where, in living-rooms
anglers dangle their lines on patterned hailis (carpets),
and bemoan the fate of the ones that got away.
In our garden, piggy eyes glisten.
They have acquired a taste for flesh.
They are licking their lips. Listen …
Kindly note: The correct wording for Roger McGough’s poem may be found here.
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May 19th, 2006 at 10:03 pm
[...] Here in Amos once again I find myself living amongst squirrels. I much prefer them to the wild pigs. They are amusing creatures, very tame whose sole vice seems to be getting into the eaves of older houses and scuttling across the cavity between roof and ceiling. Fortunately following our restoration last year they can’t get into our house. [...]
June 25th, 2006 at 2:01 am
[...] She is a wonderful deterrent against the pigs. Unfortunately Irem tied her to the leg of our dining table on the patio. When Mira took off in pursuit of a pig, real or imaginary I know not, she projected the table into the garden from which I was forced to retrieve it in three separate pieces at 1.30 a.m. Tomorrow will be spent woodworking! [...]