Pigs will not fly. Not even with counseling. Or coaching. Or fancy new clothes. Or affirmations. Or cuddling. Or the last bite of your sandwich. It is not for lack of focus. Or prejudice or profiling. Or being tied up on the phone. Or having a broken heart. Or having things easy. Or some withering away of faith. It is because they are pigs. At best, they may hang weightless for a moment, defy gravity for a moment, suspend our understanding of hard earth and crushing impact ... for a moment. At the end of it all, we will remember how this truth had always been wedged inside the marrow of our bones. Pigs. They will not. Fly.
Requiem for The Weedman Dasha Kelly Hamilton Tony never talks to me about terps Katie didn’t mention percentages or strains Mike doesn’t brandish a logo, but his product and customer service -- always fire Julian can’t name the co-op of growers, but the strand is described with war tools Meeting Moose is most natural in parking lots Ant delivers to the house Max is still making moves after bar time Serena can’t come through til after work Sam’s stash is personally vetted Percy doesn’t partake at all Ericka responds to texts, never calls Ed rewards loyalty with free samples and extra shake Jake is not opposed to credit Denver needs her money every time Cast our votes Decriminalize our connects Yelp our transactions Ease them to the margins of utility, of enterprise beside the bank tellers, book sellers, taxi cab drivers and market cashiers Alisha doesn’t have a sto
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