winter?

the fully engorged lunar lightbomb satellite in the sky
has summoned up a serious sh!t-salad savage storm
of change and challenge for our A*s up here.
there's wolf-biting winds,
plummeting temperatures,
and,
on top of the skin-shedding creepy crawl of lunar polarity
and it's imploring tug at the ocean of blood in my chest cavity,
a coalescing crystallization, is falling right out of the sky, too.
pride may go before the fall, y'all-
but right in the middle of fall?
snow.
uh-huh.
we've got flurries of ice and water.
pellets of pitter-pattering polar pelting.
nice.
which makes the werewolf berserker fury even harder.
that's a thing, duders.
and with the incredibly boogery, hacking howl of a sinus cough,
it's a sickly pack of lobos who're hunting in this sub-arctic realm.
damn.
hard styles and heavy hands and heads.
full moons.
full nostrils.
fully frozen skies.
and answers to the wrong questions blowing in on brutal breezes.
ouch.
it's all really happening,
and it hurts, kids.
***********
unrealistic demands.
that's how the autumn seems to be unfolding.
we've got clients who all want big intricate tattoos.
right this very second.
one the one hand,
word up, gimme s'money, y'heard?
but on the other hand,
if YOU ninjas were getting a gigantic tatty-o,
wouldn't you want more than ten seconds
worth of composition evoted to the imagery?
or is instantaneous gratification more important?
i mean,
a minute and a half of drawing for a multi-subject half-sleeve?
c'mon.
that's not so dope.
don't get me wrong...i'll still do it.
a grand don't come for free, after all.
and i can't pretend that i'm the helpful professor of goodwill
at the tattoo embassy, ninjas.
i'm just not especially committed
to any doo-doo buttery A*-blasters who want that kind of
non-involved turd-scribing.
i blame those t.v. shows,
and electronic culture in general.
if i can get the instantaneous answer to any question
just by typing on a space-robot mobile phone,
how can it possibly take so long to get what i want drawn up?
the process isn't displayed,
so the assumption is that is doesn't exist.
or worse,
that we should drop everything and dedicate all our energy to
the super-great ideas that these waterbabies think up.
suuure.
nobody ever sees the screening process for zipzaps,
just the big dumb results.
and that's not real life.
at all.
it's just real gaysplosively 'tarded-up.
and neighbors,
that's the jauns i just can't hang out with.
unfortunately,
i've got a cold,
and it's twice as cold outside,
and triple as sickly.
that means that the normal refusal and rebuttal process
isn't on the menu for this day's doings.
if ya'll could see the skin-sticking skidmarks
i'm sure to be leaving on the underwear of life today,
you'd make sure to bring a spare pair for your own A*.
doo-dooin' what i doo-doo.
in between gasps and hacks.
wholeheartedly half-hearted.
huh?
that doesn't even make sense;
never quiet, never soft.....