The Peckish Peccary

Craving the needle – adoration - he’s the mercurial protagonist of rubbish day. He shows up - to dump. It’s downhill from here. The old white rig, gears grinding, rife with putrefaction, picks up speed. Can’t be stopped, he snort-smirks in giddy glee. He’s under no obligation.

Half the townsfolk have steeped in anticipation for hours, many overnight. They sniff each other, longing to spin together as one in his vortex of validation. Amused by his churlish capers - placated by porcine promises. Relieved of thought. Balmed into submission.

Each new rubbish day he snorts, squeal...