A truck over-loaded with pigs
reversed to the abattoir door.
The men dropped the ramp,
opened the tailgate
but the pigs stampeded away
from the space, climbing backward,
frenzied, into the melee of bodies,
screaming.
Beaten with sticks,
struggling to go forward, still jerking
their bodies back into the torture;
away from the stench of death,
back to life,
even at its most horrific.
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