the blackest in the white.

my dog eschews fear, and even reason, duders,
in favor of hackle-raising hellacious horror,
at the slightest quiver of provocation.
from a barely-buried beast within,
that primeval pure-being wolfen-type hard-style
basic instinct jauns will ooze out her 'hood-bag.
the shadowy deep-darkness
that gets molto scary molto quickly.
on the ones.

spooooky.
what i mean is-
she will get rad on some wildlife.
and if there weren't windows and doors,
she's be on it like the chronic,
outside, all up in their busy business,
dispensing the infinity of nature on their A*s.
it's simple genetics, my ninjas.
y'heard?
she's made out of gangsterism,
and, as such, recognizes realness, exclusively.
y'know-
real recognizes real.
and that means that mere moments after i noticed
a new boulder in my neighbor's yard,
which, in turn, got up and started ambling toward US,
olive the dog went completely apesh!t bananas.
y'see,
'hood mutha-uckas don't like other other mutha-uckas
playin' in their yards.
real talk.
check the teleport:

c'mon, neighbors.

that's a humongous heaping hunk of ursine awesomeness.
and let's remember that this mutha-flippin' monster is this big
after a winter of sleeping and living off of it's own fat butt.
now look at the big galoot,
trudging along through the Fortress' grounds
and not even letting on that it could hear
the bass-boosted battle-bark from my canis familiaris...
no glass panes were shattered,
no compost was devoured,
and a good time was had by all.
the woodsly goodness has swaggering swarthy spirits.
they rep with a slow, steady amble, y'all.
now THAT is how you kick off national honesty day.
yuuuuup.
***********
today is the day.
to be perfectly honest,
i couldn't care much less about today.
i mean,
the burly ber-serk black betty started the day
with an artificially high standard to compete with.
i just don't know that there can even be
that much more eleven during a suck-sauce workday.
there will be things to do,
and duders to doo-doo 'em with,
but they aren't bears, and they aren't in my yard.
on the plus side,
there won't be brutalizingly bayful barking dogs, either,
so i guess there's a little sunshine in-between the clouds.
for sure.
*
truth tellers can never stop.
that's a blessing and a curse.
trust me, kids.
i wouldn't lie.
april is over.
a monthful of fools, even,
and the mayday distress calls are coming in already.
spirits and memories and smoke-ring ghost-rings.
it's all really happening,
faster and faster and faster.
i'm on that faded, jaded, jaundiced jauns, y'all.
tributes and honorifics and worthy warrior poetry.
the last day of the month;
never quiet, never soft.....