My Big Pig Fantasy. by Maya Stahler

with an affinity for pigs the cur
bitch circles
                  bare legs
you step inside my silo
red with
         a taxidermy boar head
slid over your face
         meet me at the dirt I had written
slotted posted into your barn door

you come running earth legged with the cur
bitch slopping
                   at your knee

         you say, hey uh before
press step over half outside
me inside I hummer
         nose roses
with some sows’ delight

you say, your face (point) some blood there

and I say, oh

hold my left to my face
         like this
the cur bitch she nuzzles
         piglets leftover
         poison bone runts
holds their boulders of shit in her mouth

you swing your daddy’s deer hoof knife
play sun tag with the bitch
                                     like an actor
         moving ear from behind curtain

my mother would hate how I pet the cur’s head
         my barefoot flat
         with the ball
         I roll the skin
         forward slow growl
         simper then belly down
         quick release slap the wrinkles back
immaculate as they have ever been tan tan

and you’re on me
pash patch this is all by eye of the silo
green from sea fog

wet weeds by the edges the cur
bitch closes the door snick

your hand on my dress buttons feel the seep there

say, you’re spotting

I say, it’s not mine

and the cur sniffs up
my back pawing at your legs
         twin fleabit eyes greying
         shavings in my black hair
         the way I watched as your mask fell off
and got gnawed by the drift

         my lure august california
         something a hand reaching
         cupping from underground
         I find purchase then yank double
         yank you to make you need me

Maya Stahler is a poet from Oregon who is currently a poetry MFA candidate at the Iowa Writers' Workshop. Her most recent work appears/is forthcoming in Diagram,, Bull Shit Lit, Anthropocene and elsewhere. @MayaStahler