Tuesday, November 24, 2009


i have a pig. in the middle of the city he naps against the radiator snoring kicking his hooves and passing gas. charleston pig begat by princess snortus who was begat by king henry baconton the greatest show pig in american history.
charleston pig has taken home a million dollars in show prize money and stud fees. i do not have the heart to tell him what happens to his male heirs. famous actors buy his children to serve on easter or thanksgiving. famous chefs come calling two years before the president comes for dinner and they ask.
as i watch him dream i am filled with guilt. my room mate, my income, my friend how many of his children i have sent to the slaughter.
in an effort to suppress the pain i allow him to rut through the center of my life. when i invite a woman over i leave their clothes on the ground so he can roll across them. i shovel mounds of his waste off the floor and wipe the front room down. on weekends we spend hours at a small eastern oregon farm so that he may roll and frolic in the mud.
i do not know if he feels sadness. i do not know if he thinks of the ghost of children past. i do know that he will not mount any of the first class pigs that have paid for his services. charleston pig loves slumming it. he mounts freely, only the lower class and impregnates only the worst of the lot.
the farmers in the places we retreat to know this, they trade the land use and pig mounting for the chance to claim his blood line. each pig that becomes pregnant wins the pig lottery, as they will not be slaughtered. they are spared until they give birth and charleston has moved on to another pig.
i use to think this was just his taste. to each his own, as they say. then it began happening, where if i left him alonew with his woman he would snort, cry and dismount. he wanted me to watch, wanted to stare into my eyes as he performed. if i looked away he would snort and gnash his teeth, only quieting when i returned his gaze. this new practice caused a tremor in my heart.
each year, charleston pig, artifically inseminates 30 she hogs. each hog will give birth to eight piglets. that is 240 piglets, of those all but 30 will be slaughtered. we have been in this business for 10 years. i have sent 2100 of charleston's sons and daughters off to die.
i am the hitler of high quality pork products. as charleston lays and sleeps and dreams i watch, tearfully remembering those that have come to pass.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

the weather and time change

has really got me tired and confused. so i am wandering the city with a headache. i will return. soon. after i figure out what all these bricks are about.