Saturday, May 8

good grief.

what a difference a week and a half makes.
wait,
what difference does a week and a half make?
well,
with worthy warrior poets,
it serves as a recharge for the creative batteries,
and an instigative ague for artistic assault and battery.
but,
when it comes to the initiative of
the regular redneck white mountainous valley dwellers,
it makes not very flippin' much difference at all.
oh, yes, yes, y'all;
as it has been for a hundred mutha-b!tchin' years-
nothing has changed up here.
except me,
again.
blowin' in on the crosswinds,
which tried to crash-land the plane,
(they were very cross winds, indeed)
i'm all the way live,
and all the way back home-
never quiet, never soft.
that's how it goes.
berserker barbarian battle-beastly bardic big business.
i'm super-charged with loud fresh hardness,
but i'm right smack dab in the wet weekendy
weak sauce of a whole bunch of big dumbness.
it's not the place that sucks balls,
just the doo-doo duders in it that chuggle the nugs.
that's a hard style.
a mini-minute of minneapolis, minnesota,
and more gets done there than a year's worth
of foul, fat, F*tarded A*holery in the mountains.
that's some sh!t, ninjas.
now, don't misunderstand me-
there're plenty of fragrant blossoms,
and babbling brooks,
raging rivers,
meandering meadows,
pristine pine groves,
and still-snow-capped peaks here.
so that part is still dope.
there's no place like it, kids.
but i'm beginning to notice a little somethin';
do you know how pearls get made?
you do?
yeah, it IS gross.
a crusty, disgustie, hardcased booger creature
gets a piece of grit in it's mouth/body,
and totally can't handle it.
so,
since neither the oyster nor the sand-dot are going anywhere,
the former slowly wraps the latter in underwater aquasnots,
until it's a glob of opalescent sparkle-magic.
c'mon.
i mean,
why doesn't it just spit the crap out?
it's a giant mouth, after all.
but only in a one-way colon kind of a cratery way,
apparently.
(yeah, shawn, 'it's mine now...')
the analogy is a little rough,
but i bet you see where i'm going.
you can't become a pearl
without first becoming an irritant.
that's us. ...you know it.
we got that part covered,
and in turn are getting covered.
every unchanging, immutable, ignorant log-knobbler
is making really realness shine.
word up.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
swallowed, not spat.
aggravating,
and snottier by the day.
right in the hearty, hearth-y, hard center of a
crusty, disgustie, booger-creature colony an' that.
pearl onions, pearl olives, pearl bailey.
it's that kind of a day, duders.
the only issue i'm concerned with is all the hottness.
i'm sayin',
with all the creativity butting butts like in the LHC,
we could leave a black hole in our wake.
or the hottness could turn it up to eleven,
and we may well end up with chowder,
instead of a necklace of lustrous lumps.
lumps, ninjas, not globes.
i said it, i meant it;
freshwater, miki-fikis.
we're inland,
so all those orbs of spherical sexiness don't apply up here.
ugly + hottness = dope.
***********
grey foxes love vegan compost.
or at least one of 'em does.
i know this because 've seen it.
comparatively less common than their crimson counterparts,
grey foxy ladies are way fresher.
no flashy scarlet hound-harassing haunches here.
just macaroni-munching mandibles,
and half-night hues and haunting howls, too.
we got them jauns.
us and the fox, i mean.
there's a big, fat, furry raccoon out there sometimes, too.
but who cares about raccoons when rarer foxes are afoot?
not me, ninjas.
i'm looking forward to co-habitating with the fresh fauna
afield in the flora of this rural Folk Life.
i'm thinking about getting one of those motion-sensor
night-vision hunting cameras.
some snappy shots of our little buddies
seems like just the thing to really get it poppin'.
***********
i've got a full day of zippity-zappin' in front of me.
and more work than hours to do it in.
i'd stay extra-super late, maybe,
but i've got a man made of iron to hang out with.
yeah.
we checked out 'the losers' last night,
and we'll be back at it again this evening.
comic book nerds, represent.
they keep making 'em,
and i keep getting 'em.
i doo-doo that geeky sh!t;
never quiet, never soft.....

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