grey o'clock

waking up to misty, foggy, rainy & cold
i love these mornings when its impossible to tell what time it is.
it just sort of gets lighter grey from a sort of darker grey.
its grey o'clock.
its a pipe-smoke colored day, today. definitely.
there really is no time on these days, until you get up and start them.
then, theres just never enough time.
timeless to less time. in three shades of grey.


these kickass stumps are all over the place out back in the woods.
the knots from old low-low branches are denser than the large rings around them and thus,
they decompose a great deal slower. which looks pretty fresh.
and, the old rings fracture like crenellated walls. ancient ruins, earth-toned scale models of dungeons, and even of dragons.
mossy pine dragons, at that, watching over the woods.
i'm 'bout it.  


i ordered the 'poetic edda'.
my man, snorri, made his edda from that one...
and, i ordered the skaldic poems and sagas.
kenning. speaking only in analogy and metaphor. 
clever names for regular things as a means to tell a story?
c'mon....you already know how dope that is.
figures of speech. thats what i want to be.
a circumlocution used to emphasize.
a flavorful sachet exuding the hottness and chef-ing up all the weak-sauce wonders.
i am only just sayin'...


just be dope, people. especially today, and every other day.
i'm going to work today. i will be doing some serious mechanic work. so to speak.
i mean to say, righty-tighty or lefty-loosey, i am only, and without exception or failure,
going to be using a wrench.
there will be more later.
a two-story day, to be sure.