The Confederacy of the Black Pig March
Labot2001

Quite a few summers ago,
Back when I lived in Texas,
My friends and I were quite bored, with nothing to do.

We were all hanging around by the creek that day,
Me and Bill and Nick and John,
Just throwing rocks around and catching tadpoles and other things of that nature.

It was really boring.

"We really need something to do," Bill said.
So we started shooting around ideas. Most of them
Were stupid and impossible,
Like a flying bike, or a
Gas-powered garbage can, and
Other things that sounded really cool but we couldn't do because we were just kids and didn't really have the money or resources to do such things.

Then Nick
(Who'd recently read The Adventures of Tom Sawyer on my recommendation)
Suggested we play pirates.
We had all the room in the world (well, as long as we stayed not too far from home or else we'd get in trouble) to pillage and plunder and carry out other pirate activities.
After a very brief discussion, all the aforementioned boys had agreed to this exciting idea.
So we picked up some sticks to use as our swords
And painted mud on our faces 
Because we thought it looked cool.
And then John said, "Our crew needs a name"
To which I suggested
"The Confederacy of the Black Pig March".
And we all agreed on this absurdly random name that had nothing to do with pirates or anything at all for that matter
Because we thought it sounded cool.

We then painted Jolly Rogers on our stomachs with mud
And then poured a fair amount of mud into our bait bucket
And climbed up the other side of the creek
To the cow fields.

Our first mission was to make our mark on these cows.
Surprisingly,
Most of them didn't really mind having Jolly Rogers painted on them.
Due to the lack of danger involved,
We found this mostly not very fun,
But had a good laugh once we stepped back
And saw several dozen cows lazing about with Jolly Rogers painted on their sides.

We then delighted in running around screaming like madmen, which
Caused a great deal of panic among the cows and
A great deal of laughter among ourselves.
Our next order of business was to steal some chickens
Because pirates steal things.
(It's simply part of being a pirate)
Across the creek from Bill's house there was
A chicken coop
And it was really old and rusty and if it weren't for the fact that so many healthy chickens lived in there I'd bet it was deserted.

We snuck in and stole some chickens.
(I make it sound much easier than it actually was)
The chickens were awfully afraid of us
And scattered about and clucked and generally caused a great deal of chaos
Which we, as a group of twelve-year-old boys, found quite entertaining.

We each caught one chicken, bound their legs with bailing string, and carried them upside down back to our cove.
But after all the fun wore off
We all felt pretty guilty about stealing someone else's chickens
So we took them back.

The rest of our day was filled with similar shenanigans, like
Shooting Bill's sisters with water guns,
Putting people's mail on top of their mailboxes,
Riding downhill in old shopping carts at excitingly dangerous speeds, and
Tying several hotdogs to Avery McPherson's dumb dog's tail, which was very funny to all of us,
Except for Avery
(Who was quite the bully and tattle-tale, which is the worst possible thing for a person to be, so our cruel little trick was justified).

That night we slept in Bill's backyard
On the trampoline
In our sleeping bags
Looking up at the stars
And John wondered if anyone was looking back at us
To which we all laughed
Because we thought it was funny.

And we talked about how we'd be friends forever
And buy a farm when we're older
And get cows of our own
And brand Jolly Rogers into them
And fly a Jolly Roger above our farm
And have fun every day
And never have to work
Or go to school
Or do what our parents tell us to.

But now I have a feeling that that's not going to happen
Because I moved away and don't see my friends that much anymore, and
Bill is a 16-year-old racecar driver because his dad says he is, and
John is hanging with the wrong crowd and gets into all sorts of trouble these days, and
Nick hates his new school and most of the kids in it
Because they're all jerks and hate each other and I guess that's just the way things are.

And sometimes when I lie awake at night and can't fall asleep
Because I drank too much coffee so that I could stay up to finish a poetry project that I should've started on earlier than the night before it was due
I think about my friends
And wonder if they remember the Confederacy of the Black Pig March
And the fun we had
And the things we swore we'd do one day
And how great life was when we were twelve years old
And bored out of our minds
Without anything to worry about
Without any responsibilities.

And I wonder if when I die
I'll be the last member of the Confederacy of the Black Pig March
And the Confederacy will die with me.

I never really knew what I was afraid of until I wrote this poem.