time travel.

we've leapt into the past, duders!
the clocks retreated, regrouped,
and recommenced the countdown to tomorrow,
but that other 'nother hour is not gained,
we're just living sixty minutes behind schedule.
it's like a quantum chronological do-over.
ya'll may not realize it,
but if you spent that extra hour in bed,
you probably did something lamer
than you otherwise would've.
...if you'd have stayed in the future, i mean.
just sayin', neighbors.
what about the worthy warrior poets
and goodsly woodsmen and women?
that's it,
like, what's poppin' with those really real ones
you all know and love as Folk Life & Liberty Fusiliers?
well,
we're not letting any temporal fugue state deactivaction
stop any of us from remaining firmly affixed to the future.
we check the teleport regularly, my ninjas,
and that reactivated golden hour is never used for slumber.
daylight only ever needs saving from itself,
and when it's all over, (like it is today),
it becomes a spending spree of minutes previously invested.
you never accrue interest on daylight savings, kids.
that's why we take our time by storm,
and offer no quarter or even spare fifteen minutes.
oh, you like it.
anyway,
i stop watching my watch and start the stopwatch
to witness how close to the ticking time-balm you let
yourselves get with those shut-eyed shudders.
extra hours?
c'mon.
our eyes are open up here,
swimming up the timestream,
like spawning salmon.
wait a minute, (you've got your hour, after all)
that means we probably die at the end,
after some hard-style pounding,
just like salmon.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, man.
it'll be worth it, my ninjas!
don't sleep on this expert activation.
i'm flippin' mutha-flippin' rose-colored
hourglasses upside down,
and i'm repping streetwise counterclockwise
cointelpro on the spanning of modern times.
long nights made longer,
afternoons grown shorter, sweeter, and darker,
it's all really happening.
the concentric circadian cycles, y'all,
overlapped a little tiny bit extra last night.
that's that ven diagram sh!t, ninjas.
the resulting cohabitation of both loud AND fresh
creates a whole 'nother something else:
hardness.
and the location, just like on a clock?
...your face!
word up.
***********
fortunate?
perpetually.
i'm a lucky duck most days.
but sometimes being a soldier of fortune
means cracking up and finding out
some secret message type jauns.
i find myself discovering some ugly truths.
teleport back to the future:

neighbors,
you know me...
i've always been favorably inclined to
optimism about mankild.
fact.
*
shooting guns.
...expert.
tattbombing.
...expert.
woodstove fire.
...expert.
time travel.
...expert.
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
pretty sure today is gonna be expert.
it's got all the ingredients,
it's got all the equipment,
it's got it going on.
today is the day, duders;
never quiet, never soft.....