i love you.

valentine.
from the latin, valens.
guess what that means?
worthy.
true story.
that makes all my warriors,
and all my ninjas,
and all those Folk Life active participants
each and every one of my valentines.
be worthy.
be mine.
***********
i'm reppin' on lupercalia, though.
and that's pretty flippin' roman, for sure.
the ides of february, or thereabouts,
is when the werewolfen jump-off gets poppin'.
no hearts.
no flowers.
just some proto-pantheistic power.
evil spirits catch wreck in a warding fire,
health, vitality, fertility, and good fortune all show up.
it's the feast of lupa.
that's the crazy wolf that raises the twins romulus and remus.
one founded rome.
without him,
star trek would've been lamer,
and,
there'd be nowhere for barbarians to get busy smashing.
the other gets killed by the one who founded rome,
and kinda sucks, really.
awwww, man.
anyways,
during lupercalia,
people dressed up like chappy goats,
except mostly naked, like the fauns, and pan,
whilst slapping other people with bloody blackjacks.
c'mon.
my taciturn crap capricon nature
is kind of all about that.
i mean,
if i had to pick one or the other.
bloody slaps trumps roses and candy every time.
so i'm still here.
and my kids still aren't.
that makes for hard styles,
and hard days.
it's valentine's day.
the day of the worthy.
never mind the mushy stuff, ninjas.
worthiness is the name of the game.
i could give a damn about lace and pink stuff,
but i sure do want to be worth a damn.
now,
where the heck did i put my wooly goat thong?
never quiet, never soft.....