MS. Found in a Pig
Piggins: Sigh… this listless day—I should hope to trade places with this brew!! Bet I’d fit right in, and leave off just before the cork.
Piggins: Into the river with me? —Where I’d Mosses-a-long until spotted?
Piggins: Nope. The ocean is where I’d be, manuscripted-and-bottled, at last washing up: salt-brined & cranky…
As ta, when, or what shore receives me? —I… dunno.