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“During the middle ages, there were dozens
of murder trials against animals.”
.
For murder, it was always
The domesticated, pigs
Especially, the ones who
Trampled children, danced their hooves
Through memory’s red seizure.
.
Or the pigs, sometimes, were tortured,
Squealed clear confessions of guilt.
And locked in solitary,
They grunted the black mass prayer,
Snuffled to the devil’s sleep,
So closely guarded, so bound,
None of those killers escaped.
.
And when they trotted, back-whipped,
To trial, a few of those pigs,
According to the records,
Had court-appointed lawyers
To plead the victim-defense,
The mental-deficiency
Gambit, none of it moving
The men who stood in for God.
.
So all were executed–
Hammered, butchered–and some led
To the gallows, snouts sliced off,
Wearing white human masks, dressed
In coats and trousers, lifted
To the bleating, back-legged stance
Of the hell-Pentecost, all
The silenced crowd pressed forward,
Waiting for those pigs to hang,
Shutting up their Satan tongues.
Copyright Gary Fincke. First published in The Gettysburg Review. Republished in Inventing Angels (Zoland Books).
Gary Fincke is a poet and author of short fiction and nonfiction. Born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Fincke is the recipient of multiple awards for his poetry, including the Bess Hokin Prize from Poetry magazine and the Rose Lefcowitz Prize from Poet Lore.

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😳 and ugh, “the men who stood in for God.”
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A scary thought, isn’t it. And yet, that’s what so many people in positions of power do…
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Wow. I have to read that again now. Brilliant!
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Scary, bizarre, revolting and beautiful.
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I love/hate this poem on so many levels. Brain and stomach warring. Good stuff! My admiration rising with my gorge.
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Yes, poetry is not only about what is polite and pretty.
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Barbara, thanks for writing what I would have, if my gorge hadn’t won the battle!
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As the saying goes the stupide of man never ceases to amaze me.
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Indeed.
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