that's a lot.

eight hundred.
yup-yup.
eight flippin' hundred times.
in front of this keyboard,
chronicling the really real-life comings, goings, and doings
of woodsly goodsly warrior poetry.
800x.
...is that a milestone?
kinda, right?
i mean, it all keeps happening.
and i keep living it.
i suppose that should count for something.
documenting that real-deal deep doo-doo.
that's what's up.
for sure.
staying worthy of the time afforded,
for what that's worth.
***********
it's below forty degrees outside.
c'mon.
that's ferociously uncool.
and,
there's subfreezing temperatures threatening
to drop the mercury another 'nother notch...
i know mercury is in retrograde, ninjas,
but it's not supposed to be like this.
the woodstove is raging.
the wind chill is preposterous.
spring is in remission,
and winter time is back with extreme prejudice.
i would seriously punch ma nature in the boob right now.
that's no joke.
right on the side-boob part.
hard.
if my chattering teeth and shivering skin
didn't throw off my aim.
there's hot food on the table,
and there's good folks sittin' alongside me-
cold world,
warm hearts;
never quiet, never soft.....