it's a ridiculously busy summer stretch of time.
up here, it's autumny like a mutha-b!tch,
and there a brutal batch of massachusetts moms mobbing up
the entirety of the woodsly goodness.
the valley is packed to the rim,
like a bowl of sh!t-salad overflowing with frumpy dumplers.
dang.
it's sure to be congested causeways and hard-style headaches
from now until september.
fresh greens and fresh pottery,
that's really all i've got to try to acomplish today.
there's farmer's market full of do-gooder honkies
plying their green goodness over in the uber-whitest of mountain villages.
i'm headed over to scoople up on some bread,
some bowls, and some hobbit mugs an' that-
we've got to take time where we find it.
like guerilla army skirmishers.
irregulars, i believe, is the polite term.
time taking renegade life livers works just as well...
i'm sayin',
there's a full slate of slap-happy zaps to blast out afterwards,
but that's not ever very enjoyable.
so before i enter the wrench-works for the day,
i've got a good morning of stoneware and organic veggies
to requisition and procure by whatever means
cash, cajolery, conscription, or coercion my ninjas.
we doo-doo what we've gotta.
and we've got to get some crispness and some leafiness,
and a hand-thrown clay crater to hold 'em in...
***********
y'know,
with only five folks in the Fortress last night
it sure seemed kind of empty in this old house.
of course,
after a wild week of waxing and waning wolfery,
long car rides, longer nights, hardest times, and hottest fire,
it stopped seeming like very much of anything
the very split-second my melon hit the pillow.
goodnight moon.
and then oblivion until daybreak-
word up.
and with a good night's sleep,
the lightning-striking viking vigor is back in full effect.
that means more really realness. documented.
i said it, i meant it.
it's all really happening-
if you're having life problems i feel bad for you son,
i've got 99 problems but FOLK LIFE ain't one;
never quiet, never soft.....
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