Tuesday, August 6

sick.

summer colds are no flippin' fun.
i mean,
freezing in the warm sunshine,
and burning up in the cool evenings could be cool,
if i was a total A*-hole.
which i'm not, by the way.
c'mon.
however,
sleeplessness over extended intervals has worn away the defenses
of my innate superhuman vegan healing factor,
and allowed the germs of the common man to worm their way
past my white blood cells, and into my black heart.
yuck.
sinus pressure makes me want to run through walls headfirst!
that's real.
so, neighbors,
being semi-incapacitated isn't gonna break my stride, or my pride...
i'm still headed south to pick up my kids this morning.
family togetherness can't be thwarted by a one-thousand degree fever,
nor a hacking cough,
not even by a screaming-hot razor blade throat.
we've got time to span together.
that's important,
it could very well be the last week we all hang out this summer.
awwwwwwwwwww.
nobody likes truncated visits,
and worthy warrior poets never shirk their mature adult responsibilities.
even sick as a damn dirty dog,
there's gonna be big fun in every direction, all the way off the charts,
to eleven.
covered in snot, sniffling back a tide of effluent from my face;
with enormous sad plum colored bags under my reddened, weary,
honey-colored eyeballs;
and incongruously festive feet.
teleport:
even an impromptu inconvenience like this head-filling illness
can't prevent the presence of presentable toe sprankles!
c'mon.
summer feet are a real thing,
and that's just the way it is.
the rest of me is more like this though:
ugh.
i've surely got the stay ugly part covered.
now i've just got to chug-a-lug a hundred gallons of liquid,
and lay still for a hundred hours of sleep,
and maybe, just maybe, i'll still stay dope afterwards.
we'll see.
either way, just ugly and busted, or ugly and also expert,
harvest and maple are still coming on up to the woodsly goodness,
to span time and actively participate in really real rural world events
at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress, with me and peoples.
there are times waiting to be had.
good ones, mostly, i'm sure.
the long nights, cool weather, hard styles, and rough patches
are what make all the rest so excellent.
i'm grateful for the time i have been given.
a sloppy, sopping, sour, sick spell of snot spilling and spit spraying
is just the thing for making lasting memories.
remember the time i ruined summer?
awwwwww;
never quiet, never soft.....

No comments: