s'words.

not everyone starts their honeyed moonlighting a week late.
but we do.
in fact,
we totally doo-doo that sh!t.
the combination of hot fire, hard-styles, serious cigars, and cold weather
makes for a wide-awake set of eyeballs.
which meant i was up late, thinking on this new old life i've got.
there's something to it,
something new.
spooky, almost, that next to nothing has actually changed,
besides the box i check on the marital status column;
and yet,
there is a decidedly different feeling around here.
secret smoke-circle ghostly goodness may have slipped into my subconcious.
i'm just saying:
i feel pretty good.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress seems bigger, too;
what-all without a whole herd of homies in it.
in keeping with innkeeper in-jokes,
i just have to say,
we have the capacity to house a holy helluva lot of folks up in here.
moreso than many mighty mississippi minneapolis minnesotans might, even.
excepting that i only have a half-a-handfull of handsome, handy, hardies to invite.
so really,
it's just a big empty house over here.
actually,
that's truer than true today;
i woke up this morning to something i haven't heard in two whole entire months.
silence.
there's nobody here.
no houseguests.
at all.
it took a quick second to scale back the scope of my breakfast makin'.....
i mean,
tea and toast, yeah?
but just for two?
weird.
i even drew some pictures yesterday.
that's correct, mutha-lickas.
preliminary arthur-making hottness has started to seep out.
i know.
like i just said.
weird.
it's probably just oversaturated inspiration oozing down the spine,
and out from between the covers.
(that's what SHE said)
no, not like THAT you dirty birdies-
between the covers of this so-so bangin' book of painterly power.
i got that new jammie from james christensen, ya'll.
men and angels.
it ain't exactly cheap,
but if you don't own it,
you ain't exactly smart.
go get it.
now, an' that.
that's the good word;
never quiet, never soft.......