I’d say you’re a swine, you hissed,
But I don’t want to be sued by a pig.
As if a pig shies away from rutting, over-eating
And the occasional innings of mud-enhanced horseplay.
Still, if I have caused offense to a soul,
Be it porcine or otherwise, my deepest, humblest apologies.
I should say, in my defense, that none among us could truly be
The dazzling, dashing version of ourselves we put out
For inspection in early days. The peacock, once you get to know him,
Is simply a noisome, foul-tempered bird
Ill-smelling and likely to nip the very tip off a finger
Once he folds his plumage, the feathers having served their purpose.
Let me reiterate, then, what pig and princess know full well;
Some days, we are the foul, fornicating beast in the slop
While on others we offer glimpses of our best, finest, Platonic selves.
Mostly, we plod on in bewilderment somewhere in the middle.
I would submit that my dear pre-bacon brethren
Would not find by behavior defamatory;
Indeed, should push come to shove,
I would hope they would file
An amicus curiae on behalf of my defense.