What a piece of work is man! the boar next door
exclaimed, and rummaged in his trough. How true!
Upright on two strong legs, achieving more
through evolution than pigs ever do.
Their texting thumb, their mobile-eager brain,
their constant hunt for novelty, their speed
on land and air, their intellectual vein;
for each invention they invent a need.
And yet ... I wonder. What they feed their young
I wouldn’t touch. Such junk. My litter's fit
and fresh-aired, active, sound in heart and lung:
no couch-potatoes there, all swear and spit.
Fat as a pig? More like, fat as a child -
computer-games obsessed, and stuck inside
afraid to rootle, truffle or run wild.
Who’d be a man! At least I’m satisfied.