bears, just barely.

F*n' bears.
F*n' bears, who munch up on our birdfeeders.
BIRDfeeders.
not squirrel-,
not chipmunk-,
and definitely not bears.
until last night.
F*n' bears...
for over a year,
our seedy cedar-shingled cyclinder
hung out, unmolested, high above the temptations
of all the wingless woodsly animals.
but now the big blackness is finally big enough
to reach up and touch something.
that's word, duders.
a seven-and-a-half foot reach to our dangling, dazzling,
cedar-house of seeds?
c'mon.
any hungry-hungry goldilocks-destroyer that huge
would most probably make the best rug ever...
...and it SO would have,
if i hadn't scared it away by barreling down the stairs,
bare-assed and brewing a brouhaha,
before i brought the big bore blasters to bear on that bear.
i know. i know, kids-
my wifey would never have let me take the shot.
even though it was frightening to have an
actual assault on the Fortress.
i'm just sayin',
that barbarian battle-beast was making an awful racket,
like zombie burglars without arms bumping into the walls.
pretty scary.
makes me glad for all the mutha-b!tchin' bullets up in here.
and that's for real.
a near miss on my mission for matted, meatless maws, and manacles,
mounted by the mantle.
maybe tonight, though.
yeah.
i'll catch my ZzZz's outside,
in a sleeping bag smothered in peanut butter and millet,
and see where that greasy grub-suit takes me.
probably to rabies-town,
or ants-in-my-pantsville,
or the chipmunk monastery,
or some other unwelcome nuisance of nancy-saucery.
and why?
because of the bears, y'all.
the F*n' bears.
big black ones.
***********
i've got socks on.
(i'm sure that's interesting to you.)
but for really real,
they're on my feet.
that's how i know that regardless of what my calendar says,
summer took off and left us in the lurch.
cold toes, ninjas.
...unacceptable.
after a whole season of summer feet,
my argyles are encasing my ankles again,
like coffins of cotton interring my insteps.
hard styles.
socks.
little things that mark the passing of time,
more than leaves, and raking,
and failing, faltering, lingering twilights.
socks.
normally,
i span my time unshod,
in a barefoot-due-to-non-stop-rockin' scenario.
c'mon.
i rock socks OFF, neighbors.
y'heard?
but these days,
my bare feet are trumped by bear's feet,
and the in-between times are covered in slippers.
dang.
the slippery slopes of summer's cease-
september.
more and moreso every day.
it's all really happening,
and if not right now,
then when?
day in, day out;
never quiet, never soft.....