that's what i want.
a whole hot handful of glovely warmth and mittenly magic,
with sweaters and scarves and tinsel and cinnamon-scented
spicy nicey-niceties like fir boughs an' sh!t.
yeah.
except,
maybe not the tinsel, though.
y'know?
yeah.
i'm pretty sure that that's what poor people do.
but all the rest of it is invited a.s.a.p. to come on over and hang out,
and get totally fresh to death in the woodsly goodsly northern new hampshire mountains,
while also evoking and invoking the ungentle art of being expert.
activating some holiday hottness with me and my peoples is the brightest tree-top
shining star that december has on offer.
and it's all starting today, neighbors.
because it's today that's THE DAY .
like every day, but also in a special way.
it's the very first day,
of the very last month,
of this very looooooong and also very short year.
damn.
it's almost over, and also, it's just begun.
today.
what do we do when it's day one, duders?
that's riii-iiiight.
we say the summoning spell that cultivates coincidences deep within the
overlapping circles of spirit and memory that spiral outwards
from the echoing epicenters of the unfolding secret universal sheet music that
formulates arpeggiated scales of chords, dischord, ripcords,
and rip-roaring raging storswept savage gypsy barbarian berserkerism,
through a bass-boosted brass section in the back section.
and do y'know what that is?
yup.
that's a F*ing TUBA.
ha.
anyway,
when that's the time and date,
and the place is the space between asleep and awake,
where silence is golden,
but loud, fresh, hardness is platinum;
which is to say, it's the ranking officer in the chain of command-
there's something to be said for the first moment of the first day.
you know what it is from the moment you crack one sleepy eye,
waaaaaaay before the breaka-breaka dawn jauns get underway-
the magic mutha-'ucking words.
say it, spray it, play it forwards and back it up again,
there's only one thing for it:
rabbit! rabbit!
that's the truth.
i said it, i meant it, i'm documenting it,
and there's only one direction we're heading from here on out-
uphill.
it's twice the work, and ten times as tiring,
but the view from the top is reportedly worth dying for.
let's hope it doesn't come to that,
but rules is rules,
and i'll take the consequences.
i'll also take a treat to go, yo.
guys,
you can't start the month off bitter,
you've got to make it sweet.
check the teleport:
kyooooot!
little bunnies, because site-specific is something the snipes gripe about in absentia,
and vanilla almond baby bears for a sugar-cookie-ish just-right goldielockdown
for maximum mastery over the kitchen and it's constituent compartments.
what?
i put cookies on my cake, kids.
i'm like that.
and what's good is those big-bottomed bottom-b!tch cakes, too.
mmhmmm.
let's not forget about them.
coconut-almond brownie cups,
exxxtra-thick,
and super heavy with full-bodied full-frontal coconut creme,
taken to eleven with coconut cream-chee' streuseliscious chawnkiness on top.
expert!
a dollop of frostin',
just to affix a little hyperborean hibernator from the future on top,
and we've got a big-day baked delight to devour before dark falls back on top of us.
word.
*
hopefully,
all this rabbity rabbiting means we're flirting with good fortune.
i'd hate to repeat myself month after month for nothin'.
that's real.
i was up at 4:30.
that's not fortunate.
i even ruined some cookies,
right before i fired up those blocks of burly cocoa-coconut success.
i'm skeptical, of course, as to the efficacy of conjured luck,
but i', convinced it can't hurt to try it.
it costs very little, beyond a temporal awareness that requires proper diction,
inflection, and interjection, at just the right moment.
timing is everything, after all.
and 4:30 is absolutely the wrong time.
it's all really happening anyway.
a fast-paced hike with crabtree,
a batch of bad cookies,
a pan of baked greats-
today is the day,
and it'd better get better than this from here on out,
or else the worsening is going to be passed on down the line to everyone else, too.
misery LOVES company,
so let's cross our fingers that there's naught but beneficence on the schedule...
otherwise,
i'm coming over,
and NOBODY wants that;
never quiet, never soft.....
No comments:
Post a Comment