eleven inches.

that's a thing.
eleven inches of sodden sullen snow.
yuuuuuuuup.
november hits hard when it feels neglected.
no small wonder that the first
and last legs of my journey would be buried
under heavy duty doo-doo butter blankets.
that sloppy bough-bending b!tchsap
covering the woodsly goodness
and smothering my positivity
in a deep freeze of disgruntled ire.
neighbors,
i got snowsplosions for my face,
and thick wet mucky sh!t for my trip.
hard styles and wintry mixed-up weather,
making a solid batch of ballsucked salad
and the weakest of washed-out sauce.
it looks like some sparkle-magical hottness, however.
seriously.
picturesque.
i'd show y'all,
but you don't deserve it.
sorry, kinda.
***********
harvest and maple are here, my ninjas.
the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress is occupied
and reinforced and expertly activated
by superiorly worthy family togetherness.
c'mon.
me and my peoples....
the really real ones who know what's up.
it's only midafternoon,
and i'm wiped out.
it's what's really happening, y'all.
it can't ALL be epic heroics and full-on frenzy...
i accidentally stayed up until 4:30 a.m. reading
a pretty rad nerd book as hard as i could-
and after my standard dynamite T'N'T breakfast
i just spent the whole day in the car,
white-knuckle ice-sliding downhill to the border,
deep into the impenetrable foggy-bottomed lameness
of middle massachussetts,
and then back up and at 'em again
against the pull of gravity.
home is where i'm at,
and there's no place like it.
i'm ready for whatever is next;
never quiet, never soft.....