Thursday, August 18

last minutes.

days are going by.
they're actually going bye-bye.
thursday?
over and out.
thunder?
only literally.
heatwave cloudbursts an' that.
cacophonous rainbowmakers, duders.
sunshowers are what's really happening.
the kids have been hanging out with us at the studio
a whole bunch.
take your daughter to work day-type jauns, y'all.
instilling that work ethic,
distilling the essence of active partricipation,
installing the Folk Life freshness into
the tattbomb studio by sheer numbers.
...not that many of the clients would ever notice.
these kinds of day, neighbors,
are all over and done with before they even start.
it's already late,
and we've been busy going on adventures
with paracord, (ahem) i mean 550 cord.
helix knots?
we GOT they.
cobra knots?
like g.i. joe was in the house, homies.
there are lanyards, fobs, keychains,
and bracelets for everybody.
well, not everybody.
you have to actually hang out to get one.
we don't deliver, duders.
that's guru on the mountain-style sh!t.
y'know,
the next-level isolationist ornamentation.
we get rad with the fancy plastic rope, kids.
just sayin'.
*
there's only ever more of this,
and not enough of all the rest.
i'm anticipating precipitation,
i'm envisioning more electrostatic accumulation,
and i'm ready and willing (and able?)
to ride the lightning-striking viking heatwaves
all the way to valhalla,
and back again,
on some ben franklin kite-flyin' near-life business.
but that could just be low blood sugar talking.
yeah.
i forgot about dinner.
awwwwww.
grumblebelly like what?!;
never quiet, never soft.....

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