Revolt of Chiapas

Based upon “Fossils” movement from Carnival of the Animals

2014 HSLDA Poetry Contest Honorable Mention

A New Year sun rose softly

Bearing on the pigs with sharp chagrin

Hogs who puffed up their girth promptly

And trumpeted capitalist tunes of porcine

Boars who laughed and dismissed the farmer

To gluttony of profit they know Master will bow

Snorting odes to Marx and free-market fodder

Brown or pink, it pays to be such a capital sow

The New Year sun embraced the land

While the swine swam, unaware, in their filth

The mighty mice were whispering, battalion in hand

In a world masquerading below the farmer’s scythe

Siglo XIX, under the trough of unwitting swine

A proletariat rodent army did slip

Their painstaking scrutiny reveals a life intertwined

With the earth. The pigs’ reign, like scissors, would snip

Innumerable centuries of lives lived out

With soles, cracked and coarse, labour and blood that feeds

The very spirit of a nation, to nature devout

Who bear children, sweat, toil- and Chiapas breathes.

Imperturbability framed in the amused eyes of the mouse

Hands cradle Papa’s skeletal shotgun, clubs, a knife

Under the banner of Villa and Zapata

Como Dia De Los Muertos, we approach death with life

So as the sun rose, the story goes, the mountains did too

The smug Pigs Ran Desperately from their bountiful trough

But the mice, navigating confidently, each rut in the land they knew

For many a day, defeat the mice did stave off

But the Farmer glares down on the mice with his sickle

For it is the profit of a pig he prefers.

Still, the mice are victorious, for the wounds inflicted will trickle

Down. Freedom and justice is the pigs’ saboteur.

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