MS. Found in a Pig
Panel One
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.
Two
Piggins:
Into the river with me? —Where I’d
Mosses-a-long until spotted?
Three
Piggins:
Nope. The ocean is where I’d be,
manuscripted-and-bottled, at last washing up: salt-brined &
cranky…
Four
As ta, when, or what shore receives me? —I… dunno.