When Pigs Fly

Well, after composing, You're Such An Idiom, I really didn't have any intention of venturing back down that path anytime soon.  But, after reading the D'Verse Poetics prompt tonight, I had to jump back aboard the idiomatic train.  Idiom's are fun because they are everyday phrases and so forth, and to be quite honest, there's a lot to laugh at, when looking back upon some of the things we say as a matter of commonplace.

I liked the angle D'Verse took with this prompt.  Have fun with it.  How could you go wrong with that?  Well, I really don't know, but perhaps after reading this attempt at humor, you'll let me know:)

WHEN PIGS FLY

When Pigs Fly,

I would guess,

The bigger they are—

Then truly the harder they’d fall,

And I surmise,

The effects would linger,

Til the cows came home

But even if,

I would think,

That it would take one,

With Zoological aspirations

To prevent this oddity from risk of fester,

And so, he who raises hand,

In an obvious attempt of brownosery,

Would soon be upwind,

from where the necessary knowledge laid

Before long it would become too late,

As often, upon inhalation,

These pig-in-a –pokes,

Have the tendency,

To cloud one’s sense of self.

He who cannot smell a rat, often,

Mismanages their scent of track,

Typically, the endosmotically leaked vapor-age,

Fray grunts, as they cling upon collar tight,

Surprisingly, or not, it is precisely, this—

loss for words—created by a poor-piss-full

dissed-splay, therein, in-tension stirs,

as it often does, when one is lacking breath,

this melodious adieu lead to a certain rarity,

that being a pungency of track-shun

Now, I ask you: Why, should one bad apple,

Sour the appetites of an entire table at five?