Thursday, March 8

too late, too early.

solar flare-ups.
what. the. F*.?
magnetic pullings and tuggings.
ma nature is being molto b!tchy, it seems.
i mean,
full moons and sunspot 'splosions?
c'mon.
that accounts for huge swaths of time.
great big scythed-down reapings
of ripe moments getting cut short,
and stretched out,
and generally distorted.
there's no timeline.
no schedule.
just elemental forces converging in a
perfect raging stormswept savage double-edged
series of wide awakenings.
there are dramatic swings in semi-consciousness,
but not in conscience.
the result is irregular hours.
and that's what i'm keeping.
nervous tics in my hands,
from prolonged periods of sleepless night,
coupled with a little bitty baby bit of helping
due to dropping levels of blood and sugar,
and combinations thereof.
...and nervous tocks from the hands of the clock,
wondering if we're going to get into a slap-fight
over the tallied, rallied, unreliable numbers it's holding up.
just sayin',
big, little, and minute aren't adding up too much.
i'm not shaking and sense into the clock,
but the tremors in my digits aren't increasing the digits
to the nearest quarter hour, either.
full moons and northern lights, and hard styles, neighbors.
that's what's got me howling at 2 a.m.
the sky is clouded over, clay-colored and heavy looking-
somehow,
the moonbeams make it bright outside anyway.
that's something to appreciate.
pushing through a wet-ash blanket of dismal dampening
to shower down the magnetic magic of it's monthly mission?
the moon tries harder than you or i do.
i assume it's had more practice.
and the sun?
here it comes like a wu-TANG killah bee an' that.
tag team attacking on a worn-out warrior poet?
it's happening.
two sh!tty circles in the sky,
taking turns taking up my time.
overlapping and intersecting and interfering.
another day, duders.
another long mutha-flipping day.
there's always more of that.
even when there's less of everything else.
*
it's already time to get back to work.
another 'nother weakened weekend wednesday
ground underfoot and snuffed out.
how does one spend a day like that?
how about driving across the state with my dog?
that's right, i did that.
going nowhere in particular,
stinking up my face with a cigar,
looking at mountains and trees and not much else.
northern new hampshire in early march
is good for postcard pictures and that's about it.
what else?
well, how does reading hundreds of semi-recollectable
pages of book after book sound?
because i did that too.
ingesting information is almost the same as eating food,
except it doesn't hurt my stomach.
getting gutshot on good eats is pretty gay,
getting educated on words is expert.
fact.
last but not least,
you guys like jigsaw picture assembly?
awwwwwwwwww, man-
a 500 piece puzzle is 0% fun to do by yourself.
trust me on this one, y'all.
spanning an afternoon putting sh!t in order,
and the reward is an image of a sea turtle on a reef?
dang.
but,
my beard is buffed and burnished,
and looking very respectable.
i don't know if i'd stretch myself out far enough
to call it handsome-looking,
but it's clean and manly, if not much else.
i'm meandering, huh?
yep.
tell you what,
there is time being given out.
meted in metered minutes and nocturnal nuances.
for what it's worth,
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....

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