Thursday, August 1

rabbit, rabbit...

aaaaaand i said it again.
the magic word and a pronounced echo.
the wishful sentence fragment,
the double noun notion,
or maybe it's a verb in this instance?
who knows?
whatever the part of speech,
the spoken spellbinding is really what matters most.
out loud.
fresh, hard, activated, and in time to do what it's supposed to.
it's the mutha-F*ing first of the month, neighbors.
that's right.
somehow it's august already.
and that means it had to be iterated,
so i iterated it;
because that's what i do.
did you say it?
i hope so,
because we're summoning up the spirits and memories of good fortune
and the favor of the secret universal plan whenever we expel those sounds
from the tips of our tongues, and empty the purses of our lips-
rabbit rabbit.
that's the ticket to a month of better-than-bad luck.
cultivating coincidences is just one way that warrior poets do their thing.
we put it out into the world at large that exceptional instances are what
we'd like to consider commonplace,
solely because we're more expert than everyone else.
and that's so by virtue of our active participation.
that's a hard style, for sure,
but if you can't even say a simple word, twice,
first thing on the first day of every single month,
you aren't really worthy of the perceived prowess it provides.
c'mon, lazybones and forgetful jones,
it's not exactly a tall order to fill.
and as always,
we do get a choice as to our level of involvement.
rabbit rabbit.
that's all it takes to get the chain reaction started.
if you F*ed it up, there's always next month, i guess.
summer is already fleeing the mountains.
that's the way it goes.
cool nights, and extra sheets and blankets, and everything.
the second wave of heat hasn't hit us yet,
and so july died out cold and alone.
the good news is that means august has arrived, y'all-
what a good word that is august.

au·gust  (รด-gst)
1. Inspiring awe or admiration; majestic
2. Venerable for reasons of age or high rank.

that's that just be dope, just stay dope jauns.
and under the awnings and eaves of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress,
we (and again, when i say we, i really just mean me) are celebrating.
it's not really a party-type scene with rejoicing and regaling-
it's a semi-tragic, comedic historical anniversary.
wordimus prime-
it's four years of homeownership, and abandoned sinking ships.
that's it.
how's that rabbit rabbit sh!t really working out?
i shudder to think what'd be poppin' off if i didn't say it!
the longest nights, without sleep,
the achiest head, the heaviest heart, the emptiest bed,
the solo hermitage of the last homely house in the mountains.
it's all really happening.
there's a rhythm resonating in this place,
sending out the ripples of What Is to the recesses and redoubts
within and without the castle i call home.
i've got my bare summer feet doing double duty as lucky rabbit's feet,
and i'm hopping into the hidey-hole of spirit and memory.
i said it,
i meant it,
and i'm ready for more of all of this;
never quiet, never soft.....

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