apples.

duders,
all the sit-ups and crunches in the whole world
can't save a ninja from the hard-style realities
of a fat belly filled with baked goods.
baked GOODs.
the name says it all.
i mean,
it's not baked BADs, y'know?
i'm just sayin',
it's mid-september, mutha-b!tches.
the perfect season for munching up on some elite treats.
apples are local, and ripe.
not to mention hand-selected from the P.Y.O. orchards-
as in: Pick Your Own, ninjas.
and that means pies, crisps, and cobblers.
what do you hippopotamuses of hunger
know about grunts and slumps?
blops and glops of basted pastries, kids.
...for your face.
we're makin' 'em.
sugar pumpkins are all up in the area, too.
c'mon.
what am i?
a skinny A*-hole?
apparently not,
because my maple-syrupy sugary sweet tooth,
and his 31 well-polished neighbors,
are ALL ready to get busy on some oven-fresh dopeness.
fresh-picked, fresh-baked, fresh-to-death.
shout-outs to my spicy homeboys:
nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, mace, allspice, cloves.
brown, light brown, tan, and assorted earth-tone shades-
that's the culinary color palette of autumnal Folk Life bakery sh!t.
 we're preheated over here, friends,
and if the oven isn't warm enough,
we'll have to spray some hot fire over the tops of those slumps.
we doo-doo that flaming frenzy of freshness business.
believe it.
***********
the whole house smells good.
the cold air holds onto the perfumes of fall.
leaves, cut spruces, and woodsmoke.
nice.
the month is halfway done.
already.
time has a way of making major moves.
i guess i'll have to make some right back.
but not today, kids.
today's the day.
for working, and spanning time,
slowly, but surely.
that's what's happening.
really;
never quiet, never soft.....