really realness is all around us.
check out the teleportational hottness
of post equinox socks-rockin' eleven-ness:
my little peonies.
big beautiful puffballs of petals.
you only get a mini-minute of sexy...
then they dissolve into putrefied brown blobs.
that's why we rep the appreciation as it happens.
fleeting flickers of freshness,
in the moment, worthy poetry of woodsly warrior goodness.
what?
yeah.
warriors like peonies.
like samurai-sh!t an' that, son!
another 'nother one.
there's a whole big bushy expanse of these duders.
and they are keeping it mad real in their mulchy manse.
happy plants make for happy homeowners.
they keep the nest looking lovely, y'heard?
and speaking of nests:
empty nest syndrome like a mutha-ucka neighbors.
the last two robinettes jumped off the eaves
and escaped into the circle of life, my ninjas.
fluff-headed peepy creepers,
all grown up and out in the world.
i wonder if they think whole earthworm is as
delicious as puked-up earthworm?
nature wins, kids.
fact.
and speaking of victory-
solstice fuego?
caliente like a volcano of perfection.
you may be noticing that arbor behind me.
yes sir.
we doo-doo that kind of firstly flavor.
hard.
spanning time my my favoritest most bestest ones.
that's what's really going on.
quality of life?
off the charts.
satisfaction level?
extremely high.
this is What Is.
it's an ever-expanding, unfolding blueprint
of secret universal awesomeness.
i am grateful for this time i have been given;
never quiet, never soft.....
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