r o d e a h o g

mother rode a hog. long before she met father and found god. she saw it calling to her clearly, dear ho, go. mother answered that call consistently, but never with protection. despite headgear being buildable from the phrase, she neglected to wear it every single time she rode a hog, offering instead that it was the 70s and nobody was ahead of the times. a head is arguably the most important part to protect, but she didn't think about that while she rode. instead, she set off pondering about how rode a hog can spell hear good, which she never could, and how hog is another word for pig, which is what her mother taught her to call police. if she wasn't careful, she would end up with the image in her mind of her riding around on the back of a cop, unable to hear him scream. this was an oh-so-satisfying mental picture, but had she had it today, in this new age of our surveillance state, she might have broken the law thinking it before she ever actually rode a hog.

author's note: i read lydia davis some time ago and just now started playing with this fun thing she does in "a mown lawn." this is one of the more fun and coherent results i came up with.