al dente

slowly but surely,
there's more arthur-making to be produced.
jess donated a dictionary from the 'olden days'
to the heap of
papergoods in the supply box.
hmmmm,
despite the absence of the word dopeness therein,
i'm pretty sure the rest of the hottness
is about to get some definition,
even if merriam-webster only spells it with one t.
they, of course only ever refer to the temperature.
instead of the state of being derived from lightning-striking living.
as such,
to distinguish the two,
i add the extra t for extra hottness.
word.

AL DENTE.
to the teeth.
that's word.
because that's how i'm livin' my worthy warrior poetry.
tooth and nail,
sharing space in the same mitten;
my hands have teeth. 
even when i'm unarmed and bare handed,
i'm still armed to the teeth,
because my hands bare their fangs even when i'm open-palmed:
index finger incisors,
middle-finger masticators,
and even my thumbs are a pair of third molars...
...those're the unopposable wisdom teeth, son.
 i've got two spindly and spidery hands that take every action al dente.
when i make moves by the skin of my teeth, ya'll,
it's callous calluses and bloody knuckles for sure.
same place, same time, same thing;
al dente.
y'know that cliche' saying?
"take a bite out of life"?
or how about
''take a bite out of crime"?
well,
yeah.
axe-warrior axioms aside;
those're still hands-on activities.
you gotta do that sh!t al dente. 
i'm sayin'....
my hands have teeth, ya'll.
and i've been working on this handmade homestyle Folk Life for years;
what i make, what i cook, what i shoot, what i write.
unwavering, solid, steadfast, resolute, strong, certain.
firm.
even when we're just referring to makin' up some mackin' macaroni,
and the desired doneness thereof,
al dente means firm to the teeth.
and that's mutha-flippin' word, too. 
it's a phrase that pretty much sounds like the most all-the-way-live way to be.
firm to the 'ucking teeth!?
damn,
that's some hottness.
and yeah,
that's with two t's.


swan songs sung about holy hands!
a little early easter metaphor perhaps?
or,
an unfinished bit of chronic skeletronic bobot barbarian armament?
only shawn hebrank,
my good friend,
and perpetual (nigh incessant) sounding board
was 0% fooled by my april 1st misdirection.
most of my other other peoples,
from connecticut and everywhere else
were fooled at least a little.
so,
while my mission was by and large a success,
thanks shawn,
for not believing i'd turn super f*tarded overnight!
just be dope, ya'll.
since when would that sentiment include
the connecticut doo-doo butter sediment?
c'mon. 

the mirror is reflecting back my batch of horse-face chukkers, ya'll,
the beaveriffic (but not brown) bicuspids of a barbarian battle-beast.
it takes an f*n' push broom to brush these enameled enormities.
my, what big mutha-uckin' teeth i have.
all the better to take that bite out of life, kids.
moments, minutes, months...
documented and digested.
from deglution to digestion to disposal.
first to last,
beginnings. middles. and ends,
from delicious right down to downright disgusting,
it's all really happening.
real-life.
really real.
and when reality bites-
my hands have teeth mutha-uckas,
and they bite right back.
al dente, b!tches...
recognize.
never quiet, never soft....