road hogs

I am part of a party moving by truck from one end of Farmer Rd. to the other. Farmer Rd. is actually Simplot Boulevard, Simplot being the industrial-agriculture giant my hometown existed around, Simplot Boulevard was also the road I took to school my last two years of high school. We pause and I see men holding down hogs, by hand, in an almost sexual embrace, and slitting their throats, holding them from behind until they're done. They make a few more slashes in them, connect a bit of machine to their rear. I see this happen repeatedly, with no variation to the gesture. On the way back I see it again, and am stunned by the similarity of one death after the other.

looking down as if it were just my feet

dreamt I was -had been visiting Seneca & Megan, friends from Idaho (&this perhaps where I was visiting), but had by chance met & was conversing with the household of young people that lived "around the corner". They showed me their actualized recipe for marijuana pancakes, something I had in fact dreamed up in Idaho (well, sinsemilia abbelskivers), & when one of those women inquired of a place to practice & record music, I told her of the modish, which is a place here actual transplant friends of mine do same. I literally spelled it out for her, & upon waking realized I was trading the secrets of the waking world for that of my subconscious.