compassion.

a compass, y'all.
that could be what i'm looking for.
a sure sign of true north.
a magnetic fact.
the direction where compassion exists
simultaneously with passion, y'know?
a hard-style map-ready atlas-equipped gps.
who's using a global positioning system?
not me.
when i'm reppin' gps,
that's guilt, procrastination, and sorrow.
is that just being 'compassive' aggressive?
maybe.
there's an elephant in the room, duders.
no,
not leftovers, neighbors.
i didn't say a green elephant, did i?
ugh.
more like an unenviable, unmentionable,
unseemly, big, fat, wrinkly carthaginian battle-beast,
with a long memory and short temper.
huh?
yeah,
maybe that could be my compass.
sure.
the only unerring location those animals
know how to find is their ancestral burial ground.
oh,
what i'd give to bury this bastard, too.
awwwwwwwww, shoot.
the only holes big enough, though,
are in the gaps between today and tomorrow.
what-what?
say-what, say-what?
yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
anything cold happen.
uh-huh.
april's foolery hasn't shown itself to be spent yet.
there's only ever F*ing more,
even when it's more of even less.
more or less, it's pretty much the same thing;
never quiet, never soft.....