by R. S. Dunn
Sure, I once put lipstick on a pig.
“It’s not my shade!” the porker squealed
In anger; and danced a frightening jig.
Sure, I once put lipstick on a pig,
But lost my nerve about the red fright wig—
It would have meant somebody’s doom was sealed …
Sure, I once put lipstick on a pig.
“It’s not my shade!” the porker squealed.
R. S. Dunn is the editor of the journal, Asbestos; former Editor of Medicinal Purposes Literary Review, the erstwhile host of the Poet to Poet cable television show, and has appeared in such publications as Krax, Imago, Mobius, Art Times, Rattapallax, Nomad’s Choir, Critical Perspectives in Accounting, and Pegasus. His full-length collections of poetry include Zen Yentas in Bondage, Guilty as Charged, Cannon Fodder (Cross-Cultural Literary Editions), Playing in Traffic (Founders Hill Press), Sunspot Boulevard (Xlibris), and Horse Latitudes (iUniverse.com).
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