elusive.

what the F* is sleep?
whatever it is,
it's not invited to this Fortress any time soon.
hard rains are fallin', neighbors.
and on metal rooftops,
that sounds like nightmare hooves galloping.
the cavalry of full moon cataphracts comes
crashing down in drips and drops, duders.
loud.
fresh.
and so hard.
it makes catching zzzz's pretty rough, though.
dark circles like hot fiery smoke-rings,
clouding up my eyes, and under 'em.
i'm rocking the bandit look for sure.
maybe i should commit some crimes?
no?
c'mon.
a little random berserking.
some barbarian battle-beasting.
a bit of blood-basted bellowing brawler business.
a single serving of brutal bashing and smashing.
just a little teeny tiny bit.
during the day, in the rain, on a wednesday.
that's good right?
right.
that could just be exhaustion talking.
or pure expertise, more likely.
sh!t-salad weather,
world-weary warrior poems,
and a clashing composition comprised of both.
lucky for my A*,
it's not just sh!t-salad being served in the woodsly goodness.
we've also got some sunshine in a bowl, duders:

fruit salad, courtesy of the wifey.
just the cure for what ails me, y'all.
that is- i need some sweet and loveliness,
and the vitamins contained therein, as well.
i can feel my furnace gettin' stoked.
it's the apples.
they doo-doo that nutritious-type action.
that's word.
*
steve martin had better be a banjo-blastin' master, y'all.
my mind needs some serious blowin'.
and that's not all that needs some of that, sucka!
awwwww, man.
i'm just not ready... yet.
-to go to portland, i mean.
but,
it's a perfect reason to wear bow tie.
bow ties go swimmingly with bluegrass.
(fact)
we may have to travel swimmingly, too,
if this rain doesn't take it easy.
maybe we can row, row, row our boat.
if we only had a boat.
how many days of rain before an ark is appropriate?
40, right?
yeah.
weeklong forecasts aren't reliable,
but this last one was spot on,
and the next week is looking identically lame.
the wetness, son.
it's just so.....wet.
let's hope the wild and crazy guy has got what it takes
to cheer up these lugubrious locales....
the fruit salad will have worn off long before then;
never quiet, never soft.....