words words words....

the leaves are starting to turn.
red ones always lead the way, sugary and maple flavored.
birches wait a while to yellow out,
and the orange into brown plunge goes off at the last minute with oaks....
i took a quick spin,
into maine,
to start soaking in the cornfields, haystacks, pumpkin patches, and roadside decorations.
while it's still new, and not dried out and spindly.
it doesn't get really too suckie until deer-murdering season.
proud huntards always hang their hollowed-out carcasses from trees.
in their front yards.
seriously.
just so everyone else can be jealous of their powerfully manly tiny tiny penises.
the shooters, not the deer.

words, words, and more words;
this was a day for reading.
pages and pages are flying up into my brainspace.
word after word, going IN for a change.
of course,
i have to finish every book the day i start it,
so i can stock up hard and fast on storytime tales.
a word-eater.
that's what i am.
not a take-it-back, rue-the-day, i'll be sorry & eat my words nerd,
rather,
a devourer of letters and phrases,
and a voracious muncher-upper of what's said, and what's written.
looking and listening.
reading and hearing.
i love a good story.
i even like the bad ones, too.
i think it's a good thing to fill up on information while i have the time,
and the lack of funds to buy a bunch of dumb stuff.
'ordinary wolves' by seth kantner got eaten up today...
i wasn't so sure about it at first, and i'm still not,
if that makes any sense?
however,
it was still a good way to chomp through a lazy day.

tomorrow, i make new stilts,
and chop up some trees for barbarian bonfire fuel.
i saw a pretty festy groundhog,
roadside confetti style.

i have a good idea as to what made this hole.
it's not an exit wound,
and it's pretty hollow inside.
i'm guessing a raven stopped by to chug some greasy grimy gopher guts, y'know?
maybe a few of 'em even,
an unkindness, indeed.
more would've naturally been a murder,
albeit after the fact...
crows pretty much rock my socks off.
black birds that live 50 years, mate for life, and 'talk'?
word up,
go read that book 'bird brains',
the war-feasters never seemed more fresh.
no wonder odin relies on them to bring the news of the world.
thought and memory.
and beak holes in marmots.
keeping it real, ya'll.
ravens go to eleven.


some folks say,
when referring to making friends,
and making the nice with others in general,
that you can catch more flies with honey,
than you can with vinegar.
a dead groundhog also seems to work.
so does poop.
and anyway,
who wants friends who puke on their food?,
i am a soft place to lay your eggs,
so why NOT be my buddy?
never quiet, never soft...