Loud and sweet,
the howling of the whistlepig
erects my nipples like
sails taut in the wind.

Sailfish taught me to win
by cheating at cards,
like a cardinal at charms
or an oriole with arms.

Whistlepig, whistlepig,
let me in,
caught by the hair
on your skinny tin fin.

It’s just my luck to get fucked
on a wagon by Chuck
who’d suck a duck for a buck!

Old Spice tastes nice on rice,
but for half the price a calf with lice
will cough in your soup—delicious!

Pernicious rumors spread by baby boomers
ruined my rep at the shipyards.
But playing cards with retards
will even get you barred from Menards.

Vietnam was the bomb,
that’s word being spread by Deadheads.
And redheads like Ed’s bed
according to the graffiti I’ve read.

Whistlepigs ain’t that big,
but they feel like suede, sorta.
And they’ll suck the fat from your aorta
like a lipo machine on Tommy Lasorda.

I’d bet an erector set
you’d wet the vet if you slept over.
I hear he’s got a deer clinic in Andover
and he’s got plastic sheets so come on over!

Cleats made from beets would fit my feet,
according to the guy at the shoe store.
But don’t ask what he wears that noose for,
Unless you want to hear a moose roar.

Whistlepigs! Whistlepigs stole my dozen donuts!
I didn’t tell them they could go nuts,
I just said that they could share one.
I guess they can’t count or don’t care none.

I’m most pissed that one with the horizontal wrinkles
made off with the pink mint sprinkles.
This is a topping with which I’m quite taken,
but today I’ll have to settle for Whistlebacon!