killer of kid and faun, muddy wallower trichinosis and tick. trap smart, nonnative gar gant wan flea bag you root in the oak brush of bogs and swamp. if we killed you now, hog zila, if we took aim for your belly with our cross bow or laser sight and pulled a trigger or let a tripped arrow rip through the night air there wouldn't be a story to tell. while we lay and wait for you to appear, chewing our ciao and the fat lit up on beer, lit up on the last of the evening light. we will harness you in speech, laszo you with language and make you bleed like the common pig you were before all this celebrity. in dreams you are bigger than you will ever be. you must be made to suffer for your mystery. the origin of hogzila. are you spawn of desoto men? long snouted do your upper tusks sharpen the lower. or did you escape from an aptwau son of a son injected with gonad troepin. black tusks and tell tall tale. did your thousand pound body weigh less filtering out of your brilliant nostrils uncontained as a new myth. your solitary except for one season. you