luck o'.

are you wearing green?
i am.
and even without a pint of guiness to start my morning,
i'm still feeling pretty good about st. patrick.
irish breakfast tea, and toasting bread,
are both on the t-n-t daybreaker docket.
there's a whole dossier dedicated to doo-doo dopeness
especially formulated to make today a good day:
smiley eyes, a peterson pipe, and an aran isles sweater, kids.
that's right, potato-heads-
i'm reppin' my favorite italian-turned-eire snakecharmer.
shazamrocks and fourleaf greenheart popsicles, ninjas.
it's time to get amped on poems, sod roofs,
concertina/fiddle jigs and reels, and even the end of the rainbow.
there may even be a single-shoe cobbler leprechauning his face off.
anything can happen.
it probably won't,
but the option and opportunity is there.
we'll have to wait and see.
*
it's a sunny and sweet snow-melting morning up here.
cancelling out yesterday's mixed-up wintry weather.
that's right, neighbors,
it's like yesteray is being voided-out,
and i don't mean with a stamp,
 i mean it like voiding bowels.
turds, ninjas.
i'm saying that the sh!tspray days are past,
and the big tubers are ripe for rutabagin'.
boiled dinners are for boiled winners, or summat.
just sayin', friends,
that whether there's weather or not,
and whether the woodsly goodness cooperates or not,
there is gonna be sainty and patricky times tonight.
the supermoon insists.
and if you haven't googled that supermoon business,
well,
you'll probably be the first victims of a savage stormswept
tsunami of semi-cannibal homo-canine lupus lupus erectus
invasion.
cryptozoology, wolfmen, skunk-apes, and st. pat.
tonight's the night, kids,
in an ever-increasing sensitivity to full moon fever,
coupled with the inevitability of spring fever,
and with only an ongoing grotesquerie to show for it.
happily,
even looking like a balding werewolf isn't going to stop
the gluttonous gorging of our almost-spring festivities.
you wanna sit at the table with some battle-beasts?
you should,
because this cabbagey hottness is not to be missed.
supermoon earth tides or not,
there will be dinner.
it will be boiled.
and it will unfold exactly as the secret universal plans dictate.
blueprints for blue light,
and floorplans for full moons;
never quiet, never soft.....