hesitate and lose.

y'know that moment?
yeah.
the one two seconds after you say something totally destructive?
ugh.
sometimes,
i forget that regular people live regular lives,
neither warriors nor poets,
and therefore,
when i say i'm reppin' that warrior poetry it can be confusing.
sure, i get it, i got it, you don't know what that is.
too bad, duder, because that's exactly what i mean.
the scrapping, scraping, snarling sentiments
of anthropomorphized hot fire and lightning an' that.
right?
like,
really real battle-beastly bards DO really real things;
and as such,
the casual savagery that supplants savoir faire
as totally and completely commonplace behavior is just
sort of the way that life unfolds into loud, fresh, hard styles.
is that or is that not a thing?
so,
when i act natural,
it's more like i'm just existing in way that assures us all that nature wins.
which is to say- an unedited expletive-filled wildlife documentary.
more of a werewolfen predatory protagonist,
loving and hating and mating (or not) and fighting and blighting all
of my woodsly goodsly surroundings with hot fire spit, piss, and vinegar,
and a whole lot less like civilized modern human interaction.
on the ones, y'all-
don't let all the baked goods fool you.
there's a berserker seething below the surface at all times.
butt-naked and gnashing and thrashing and bashing
each and every single right action he encounters.
it's IN there always.
and it's a neverending true story of infinite natural wonder, thunder,
and burly blundering blustering blistering stormswept gyspsy jauns.
F*ing-A right it is.
go ahead, kids, time it-
oneonethousand...twoonethousand....
that time i almost killed a bum?
oh.
right.
that time i went to the looney bin?
oh.
right.
that time i burnt my car up in the woods?
oh.
right.
yeah.
real talk is unfiltered and unrestrained and rolls off the tongue like
lava down a bearded volcano, neighbors.
it's an undelayed do-it-live censor-and-censure proof aloofness
that always runs pure at the expense of public opinion.
do i really wonder why i'm destined to hermitage forever?
nope.
how could i?
i mean, c'mon...
what am i?
an A*-hole?
uh-uh.
i'm a shark-gluttonous barbarian scholar and viking philosopher,
and i'm letting my scathing scalding skald scoldings have center stage.
it has all really happened,
and it's all true.
***********
...and i also eat like a champion.
family togetherness after a long car ride there and back again?
you already know that calls for expert pizza for all our faces.
teleport to the custom-crusted new hottness:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
get that corn outta my face!!!
so many good things on top of that flatbread.
some of my dudes still know how to hook it up and not be little b!tchbags.
totally activated, and greatly appreciated, indeed.
plus,
now harvest and maple are here,
and we're taking these days with strongarm tactics and brute force of will.
vacation means not even giving half a flying F*.
we doo-doo that not-doing-that type business.
i've got optimism, and i've got hindsight, and i've got my girls.
everything else is bullsh!t;
never quiet, never soft.....