luck o'?

kiss me.
no.
i'm not irish.
i could just use a big wet lickory smooch.
heck,
i'll settle for a peck on the cheek.
or on my A*, even.
ya'll can definitely kiss that,
you linky lanky lame leprechauns.
yeah!
eat some turnips and boil some 'taters, yo-
it's st. patrick's day!
are you wearing green?
you should be.
today, mcneighbors,
my name is albie o'sham-rock.
uh-huh.
i'll be holding a full-day fever-pitched and fever-skinned
shillelagh stick-and-poke session here in the woods.
that's right.
it's time to activate more illness-ignoring,
hot/cold sweating, tattbombing and conversation times.
i'm not sure that insomnia and delirium make for competency
in the department of able and ample discussions...
or maybe theat's what makes it a 'dis'cussion, y'heard?
there's a lot of rambling roundabouts coming out of my mouth.
more like dubstep percussion,
fast and disjointed enough to give you duders a concussion,
which is not the opposite of procussion.
...because that's not real.
c'mon.
anyway,
blarney stone make-out sessions aside,
i'll be coughing up some racing green goo
in keeping with the spirit of the day.
it looks like i'm driving zombified snakes out
from the land of my lungs.
and it is gross.
my eyes are wet and rheumy, glazed over and glassy,
surrounded by potato sacks of sleepytime skin.
and they're certainly not smilin'.
but, then again, i'm also still not irish.
at all.
**********
my schedule is molto tight.
like,
i'm feeling the pressure building up.
some of you know what i mean.
what's got to get done has to get done before i get gone.
and i'm getting gone too soon to get everything done.
heck,
even the getting gone is going to take a whole lot of time.
jeez.
i could use some of that luck.
y'know, that luck of the irish.
however,
even now,
i'm STILL not irish.
yeah, i know.
i'm as surprised as you are, buddy.
then again,
neither was st. patrick.
i wonder if anybody ever told him he "didn't look italian"?!
i get that sh!t all the time.
i look like hell,
and i feel like all hell let loose,
and i'm ready to raise a little hell,
in a volcano,
in maui,
any day now.
until then,
it's boiled bits of cabbage,
and buckle-fastened shoes,
and cable-knit sweaters,
and all that sh!t.
today is the day.
another 'nother one.
it's all really happening,
too much in too little and not enough and more.
never mcquiet, never o'soft.....