Rock Bloxxx

what the heck am i gonna do with five and a half dozen cookies?
i mean,
obviously,
i could eat them all.
...no...i mean it, though...
for serious,
i could actually eat them all.
go easy, neighbors-
i'm not trying to blarp out on a billion pounds of cookiebaked hottness.
no matter that they're the fully-loaded version, packed with stacks of
chocolate and peanut butter in every single direction,
and crisscrossed with those obligatory Folk Life & Liberty fork tracks.
hmm?
yeah, kids.
chocolate peanut butter peanut chocolate chip oatmeal coconut jauns.
y'know?
that's that expert activation sh!t,
for when i find myself spending a friday night all by my all-alonely.
wordimus prime.
when i'm not getting busy entertaining and interacting with company,
i really truly should still be getting busy.
that's a thing.
and honestly,
what's bigger business than a pound of dark brown sugar
and a whole jar of peanut butter
and a deep cup of dense-packed baking cocoa?
mmmhmmmm.
these b!tches are burly barbarian battle-beast baked greats,
and they're reppin' the signature style of my personal contribution
to the world of cookies and treats.
yep.
Rock Bloxxx.
...for your faces.
teleport:

yeah!!!!!!!
big ol' chunky chunkin' circles of soft, crumbly brown on brown on brown.
and i'm going to share 'em with anybody who wants 'em,
just as long as they show up at the tattoo studio to tune up a trio at a time.
three in a row, friends.
why?
because they're rock bloxxx.
c'mon.
don't be dumb.
*
waking up to a plateful of cookies is expert.
falling asleep to rain tattooing a pittery-patter on the metal roof
outside my bedroom window in the warmish nighttime is expert.
i'm gettin' it, friends.
good stuff is creeping into the faultlines of my broken old busted self.
that's a secret upside, huh?
i figured i'd be taking on water and drowning or sinking before too long,
as i fell apart these past few months and years.
really,
i just was expanding,
and opening up some stuff,
to let in more other other stuff.
there's more,
and it isn't all bad.
i guess that's sort of a pleasant surprise.
i must've been too busy baking to stop and look around.
weird.
there's more going on than there used to be,
but i s'pose that's the way secret universal plans reveal themselves.
slowly, but surely.
it's all really happening-
and i guess i'll keep sayin' it,
because i doubt it'll stop anytime soon;
never quiet, never soft..... 

strawberries!

strawberry chee'cake tarts!
yep.
muffin tins aren't just for muffins.
they're also for graham crackery oatmeal'd sugary buttery piecrusts,
and soft smooth sweet creamchee,
infused with the appropriate extracts,
and strawberry-jammed to the far edges of those fancy little cookie cups.
i mean it, neighbors.
check the teleport:

awwwww.
s'cute!
those strawberries are huge!
...and that's no joke.
they're also perfectly ripened and incredibly sweet.
like more so than you'd normally expect, even.
they're exceptional.
yeah.
the more of 'em i eat,
the more i'm sure that these tartlet jauns are exactly what we needed.
around here there has got to be some kind of activation at all times.
participating in the creation and enjoyment of all the best parts, always-
and more treats..... forever.
i don't think that's asking too much,
do you?
c'mon.
well,
as long as there's fruit getting sun-kissed and ready,
i'm going to have to use it to get expert all up in all this stuff.
mmhmm.
***********
there's an awful lot that needs doing, duders.
everywhere.
i'm busier than i can remember,
and i'm not even tattooing all that much.
weird, huh?
it sure is.
i've got a kitchen crankin' out new hottness, regularly,
i've got rooms full of plants, getting repotted, and rearranged,
and a garden that's doing the same on an even more epic scale.
every place i'm at,
i'm busy doing so much stuff.
i don't hate it-
too much is the right amount, anyway.
i guess that's it-
we all get what we deserve is we work at it long enough;
never quiet, never soft..... 

world cuisine wednesday.

thai?
oh my.
yeah.
kids,
i got a little busy again.
actually,
i got a lot busy.
and in the spirit of wednesday night dinnertime fun,
i freaked it off with a whole bunch of thai magic for our faces.
that's real.
like,
when i took a bag of cashews,
and added raw sugar and ginger and basil and g.p.o.p.
and cinnamon and black pepper and hot pepper,
and paprika, and a couple seconds' worth of oil?
yeah.
i baked 'em up and added them to a plate already overflowing
with too many kinds of hottness.
mmmhmmmm.
it was just right.
i mean it.
check the teleport:

c'mon!
we took healthy helpings to eleven, for sure.
go ahead-
look closer, neighbors:

rice skins, and lettuce, and cucumbers, and carrots,
and rice thread sticks,
and fresh basil and fresh mint, and bean sprouts!
those are summer rolls, kids,
and the little glass bowl of brown sauce is the magic peanut
homestyle dippin' expertism you wish i wrote down the recipe for.
...and so do i.
what i can say with absolute certainty is that it was way better than restaurant jauns
by a force multiplying order of magnitude,
which was seconded, and then even thirded, by my dinner companions.
is that cilantro-sprankled coconut flour-dredged
coconut flake-crusted, coconut-oil-fried tofu?
it sure is.
what?
where?
oh.
the black stuff?
extra fancy coconut black japonicum rice.
yuuuuuuuuuuuup.
with those key lime wedges for squeezin' all up on 'em?
that's IT.
you know you like the way i doo-doo that freaky sh!t.
basil garnishes are nice, but crisp cuke spears are nicer,
and pineapple?
well, duh.
it goes great with every damned thing on that plate.
that's a tested and proven fact.
so what's the jasmine rice doing lookin' all cuter-than-cute,
with a scallion tophat on?
oh, not much,
except getting oh-so-ready to get added to a little of this:

wu-TANG!!
yellow curry in F*ing fully-dressed war-ready regalia, y'all.
expert expert expert.
peanuts and sweet onion and garlic forever,
sauteed in coconut oil, with turmeric and cumin and coriander
and g.p.o.p and black pepper and ginger all added in and activated,
before broth and coconut milk simmered it up,
and potatoes and sweet potatoes and baby carrot circles,
and chick peas and grape tomato halves all joined in as it bubbled.
basil and cilantro and scallions all slid in at the end to wilt it into
a big ol' boggin' bowlful of better-than-what-you-had-for-dinner.
yeah.
i know you saw 'em up top,
but get closer to what's good right now:

yeah!
nailed the perfectly paired beverage for the meal, kids.
thai iced tea, with coconut creamer, and crushed ice,
and a squirt of sweet lime?
smoother than the smoothest smooches on my lips.
*
me and my peoples feasted, again,
for world cuisine wednesday.
we make the moments matter more by assigning meaning to each of 'em.
none of it means nothing,
as long as we keep caring about it all.
i am grateful for the time i have been given,
for the food and the friends that i share,
and for the time we span.
it's all really happening,
and it can't be any better than that;
never quiet, never soft.....

chocolate for breakfast?

yeah.
chocolate for breakfast.
sometimes,
if there's gonna be cake just laying there,
looking all delicious and sassy and inviting,
you've got to fire up a slice for your face.
i mean,
you've GOT to, right?
mmhmm,
well, i do, too.
and i did.
and you know something else?
yes.
it was worth it.
check the well-balanced-type teleport:

yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhh.
chocolate cocoa cake,
with chalky fattie blops of cream chee' cookiedough,
and chocolate chips on top.
that's how you know it's good.
baby choco chiplets are so cute,
but, they're still considered big when they're supposed to be sprankles.
yup.
that's expert size-correspondent science, i think...
it went down so smooth, neighbors,
with a hot cuppa super strong steeped irish breakfast tea.
that's the beverage of choice at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
for realsies.
i guess what i mean is,
i may have sliced my thumb up a bit,
getting some super-sized strawberries ready for sugaring.
there will be strawberry treats as long as those mutha-F*ers
are on in-season in-store super sale, for sure.
(strawberries look like hearts, and sometimes tongues. i like that)
anyway,
even with a severed digit,
a big ol' vat of tea, and a thick slab of chocolatey cake
makes the morning times pretty flippin' great.
*
friends,
i've got a whole bunch of wildlife enjoying the habitable hospitality
of my run-down grounds and the auspicious eaves of my homestead.
i mean it-
there's a grey fox skulking 'round in the nights!
there're chipmunks making nests inside of the tall stumps in my garden!!
i've got bats eating mosquitoes already!!!
and i've got birds and their babies nesting, resting, warbling,
and all that sort of flighty wingedness all along the treeline
surrounding my lands and lair in this woodsly goodness!!!!
nature wins.
every time.
and right now,
there is so much fauna flourishing around my flora.
it's pretty much a wonderland of squirrels and moles and shrews, too.
all sorts of animal life is returning after that total A*-hole winter.
it's about time.
i'm spreading seeds,
and i'm luring them in.
i'll have a trained, tamed menagerie of battle beasts and war birds by autumn.
that's the plan;
never quiet, never soft.....

mexican monday.

mexican monday AND cinco de mayo?!
at the same time and sh!t??
si, amigos.
we had to get fresh with it.
we just had to.
i was up early proofing mixed-flour dough for soft supertacos,
and pickling jalapenos and onions,
and chopping salsa fresca,
and guac'ing all the holy mole,
and doing all of that sort of expert kitchen business.
that's a thing.
i seem to have a system for overdoing it,
and it's working out perfectly, too, kids.
check the fiesta-de-gordos-type teleport:

that's right, neighbors.
beans on beans on beans on beans.
we weren't kidding around.
at all.
four kinds of treats, on one plate, at the same time?
yes, indeed, duders,
because too much is forever and ever the right amount.
clockwise,
from the yellowish squares-
-baked tofu, shaken in a big ol' bagful of seasonings,
and then seared to perfection before serving.
it's simple, but it's flippin' delicious.
the obligatory refried beans, doctored up with secret spices,
diced onions, cilantro, black pepper, and ho' sauce.
y'gotta make the refrieds expert,
lest you find yourself just chugging down bland brown blops.
and those aren't ever invited to our mexican makeout party.
real talk.
-baked wheat tortilla chips.
c'mon.
what else would we be dippin' into our sauces with?
store-boughts?
no!!.....that's what poor people do.
no lazy shortcuts for us.
we even get custom on our crunchy triangles
over here at the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i mean,
it's a F*ing fiesta after all, for cryin' out loud.
black beans and rice...
...and quinoa and millet and red lentils and amaranth and kaniwa.
whoa.
heirloom grains an' that, to take the standard b'n'r to eleven.
yep.
green peppers and white onions and gold grape tomatoes,
and garlic and garlic and garlic,
and black beans and ALL the spices you'd expect,
plus those turmeric and paprika'd ancient magic grains-
all stirred together and married in a secret ceremony
in the center of a non-stick circle.
so dope.
-super-mutha-'ucking-soft tacos.
that's what's up.
a fat foldable flatbread,
with both semolina and white wheat flours,
cornmeal, salt, wheat gluten for firmness, black pepper,
raw sugar, corn oil, nootch,
and equal portions of fast and slow yeast,
for the fullest flavor with each and every bite,
butter-fried on a red hot skillet .
that's the way we get it poppin' up in my kitchen, kids.
and homemade guacamole, spread thick;
and baby salad greens, because baby-sized stuff is just s'cute;
and those hot pickled jalapenos and onions;
and scallions;
and cilantro;
and fresh extra spicy pico-de-gallo salsa.
that's all the stuffs you need to dress up a whole bunch of new hottness.
new new hottness, even.
that's right, hermanos y hermanas-
there are tiny baby-sized roman-bean burgers in there, too.
so many ingredients, but so simple to pat-a-cake up.
beans and beans and beans and beans,
and maybe even a few more beans.
that's the stuff.
checkin' those supercharged protein gains, b!tches.
mmmhmmm.
***********
me and my peoples take time.
well,
we span it anyway.
at least,
while all the elite edibles are getting all cooked up.
but,
once we have plated up our portions,
and served it all to ourselves,
and then documented it so you can see how we're livin'...
...umm, yeah.
we wild animal attack those jauns with reckless abandon
and ruinous self-indulgence,
and an unhealthy helping of savage stormswept shark-gluttony.
that's no joke.
all that carefully cultivated food-making gets 'sploded into our faces
in the short stretch of just a few seconds.
the only way i feel better is by feeling worse.
is that wrong?
maybe.
is that the way it is?
definitely.
these days are made for overindulging in all the things that are good for you.
too much.....
well, you know the rest;
never quiet, never soft.....

cinco de mayo.

oh man!
i used too much buttery-style stuffs,
and i might've used too much brown sugar, too.
really,
i think i underactivated the flour content,
and it caused the resultant wet batter to caramelize
inside the edge-heavy squares of baking cup metal.
hmmmm.
what's that, neighbors?
oh.
right.
i wanted to make something slightly appropriate
to treat myself to during cinco de mayo afternoon.
y'know?
yeah.
a little treat that had just a hint of something special,
so we all knew what it was all about.
i settled on cinnamon cake, with cacao nibs in it,
and chocolate-covered cacao nibs on it,
like sprankles.
but,
the overdone sweetness,
and the overdone extra-butterishness
made those square jerks get all caramel on the sides,
and sink in the center.
awwwwwwwwwww.
so what do we do when what we're doing won't do as we will it to?
this:

yuuuuuuuuuuup.
the sinkhole gets filled in with cinnamon-laced
(and slightly nutmegged and marginally gingered)
chocolate cream chee' frosting.
damned right it does,
and that middle layer gets filled full of it, too,
because when i've got complex textures and flavors,
i want deep, dense, rich, sweet explosions of over-the-top gratuitous
very-nearly-but-not-quite cloying chocolate-frosted cinnamon sugarbombs
all up inside and outside and on the tippity-top, as well.
too much is the right amount,
and if there's not enough of one thing,
it has to be made up for by everything else.
rules is rules.
i mean,
those aren't chocolate cakes,
they're just toasted brown sugar darkened.
that's expert, by accident.
the thing of it is.
i wasn't gonna let some upstart punk-A* treats beat me.
when in doubt, duders?
uh huh.
dominate that frosting game.
i think that's the only way to do it.
***********
in real life,
the day in-day out grind has been brutal.
some days,
it's all day early-to-late hard pounding,
and others,
it's that sit around time-wasting weak sauce.
i'm on that work-at-work, not sit-at-job jauns-
but i don't suppose i can control the way the dice roll these days.
sometimes you win a lot,
sometimes you lose a little,
and either way,
it's not exactly what i was hoping for.
there are better days ahead,
and worse ones, too.
that's really realness for your face.
more.
that's the only thing we can count on.
more of all of this.
get used to it;
never quiet, never soft.....

still okay.

so, neighbors...
i was feeling like celebrating, y'know?
i mean,
c'mon-
any day is a great day to assign more meaningful purpose
and presence and mindful new hottness to, right?
so when it's actually a day that commemorates something?
like half a decade of daddy's house?
yeah.
we'll all toast to that, for sure.
to that end,
i pureed raspberries to a pulp,
and mixed them together with lime juice,
and froze that smoothie-sauce inside some silicon cups,
and made it into fancy ice cubes.
cute ones, even.
i took some frozen raspberrries,
and used them in place of crushed ice.
(that food processor is the best piece of equipment i own)
i added a punch of sugar, because that's the way it's done;
and some bruised and torn mint leaves, shaken up with the iceberries;
and then some sweetened lime juice;
and topped it off with lemon-lime seltzer.
what?
well,
obviously i used a sprig of fresh mint as garnish.
what am i?
an A*-hole?
no way.
i doo-doo that mocktail-sh!t the right way.
uh-huh.
you knew where this was headed, didn'tcha?
i'll bet.
go ahead, check the teleport:

wordimus prime,
palabra-isimo primo, even,
it's a batch of razzled-up nojitos.
we repped those virgin jauns hard for mexican monday.
margarita mediocrity with the masses?
no way, jose (cuervo)
i guess y'all may not have heard the news-
it's STILL okay not to drink.
uh huh.
it is possible to enjoy people, places, and things
without getting F*ed up.
that's real.
worthy warrior poets and active participants already know all about it.
we've been acting worse and feeling better since forever ago.
last night was no exception, kids.
sure,
there was a whole tree's worth of leafy roughage floating like jetsam on top,
and the raspberry bits crept over the top of the iceflow dental dam, too,
but,
it tasted like summer,
and it tasted like victory,
because we do what we do,
and it all really happens,
every single time,
and that's the whole point;
never quiet, never soft.....

words.

my clients give me presents, sometimes.
i mean,
yeah,
they give me their loot,
but i provide them with a service in exchange for that.
i spend that money fairly quickly, as i am wont to do-
but they keep the tattoo for as long as they're around.
that's a pretty decent trade neighbors.
i pay some bills that i will need to pay again next month, too,
and you get transformed, or at least changed a little, for your forever.
so no.
i don't mean those movie checks.
i don't even mean the gratuitous gratuities-
what i mean is,
in addition to stacks of dollars,
sometimes,
i get presents, too.
like this:

yeah.
poems.
i swear to god,
poets love taking naps.
i mean it.
in just so many ways,
they're like the cats of literature.
you can add any adjectives that apply to cats,
and they are all totally and completely appropriate.
mmhmm.
i'll let that one soak in there for a bit.
***********
anyway,
it's one of those days.
i tattooed all day yesterday,
with nearly no breaks at all.
i ran late despite the push for nonstop rockin' i activated,
left an hour and a half after we closed,
and have a whole other 'nother day of doo-doo buttery dealings
with the same sunovab!tch today,
uh huh.
back to back blastzaps,
just because some duders take choosing the wrench seriously.
i can respect that,
but it still costs the same amount both days.
a grand don't come for free;
never quiet, never soft.....

these days.

i never said i wasn't sh!tty.
i guess that sometimes gets forgotten.
y'know?
like,
just because i can bake my biscuits better than everyone else,
that doesn't mean i have delusions about my overall quality.
jeez.
the thing of it is-
the treats take up a whole lot of slack,
so it's easy to mistake my super elite sugary sweets
for the presence of an easygoing, creative, accepting nature.
nope.
no way.
i do what i do.
and sometimes,
that meshes and melds and mixes with common-cause companions;
more often,
it polarizes and pushes and prods,
and projects an unpleasant reflection on folks who think
that too much is too much, and not the right amount.
the same way good enough isn't ever good enough.
expert is expert, and everything else isn't.
that's objective valuation.
but in a subjective social circle, that's called bullying.
i'm on that just be dope or F* right off jauns,
and i'm more often than not i'm the thorn in the collective side
of the overwhelming majority.
ugh.
terrible.
the majority is just the big midsection of spare tire blarpity middling middleness.
just because there's a lot of it doesn't mean it's good.
(that's too many, not too much.)
jeez.
is that conceited?
ha.
wrong.
it's like i started out telling you-
i never said i wasn't sh!tty.
i think it's clearly obvious when there aren't any cookies around
that i'm an overreactive reclusive philospohical exclusivist;
and occlusive superstitious snowball-to-avalanche theorist;
a connect-the-dots big picture doomsaying incisive insightful derision;
and a master of invasive plain-sight trojan high-horsemanship.
but,
before you get all butt-hurt and babypantsed,
check the it's-okay-type teleport:

gluten-free soft oatmeal chocolate chip coconut cookies!
mmmmmmmmmm.
i bake things because nobody would listen to me on an empty stomach,
and because treats are capable of being subversively vegan...
you can't tell that a delicious chewy gooey sexy bakery-fresh
bite of heavenly hottness doesn't have cow parts or chicken butts in it.
they're pretty discreet,
whereas tofu is far too obviously just for 'those' people.
ugh.
what are you?
an A*-hole?
gratitude and generosity are viking virtues, neighbors.
so is worthy wordsmithing;
so is self-righteous self-assuredness;
so is contemplative introspection,
and the perpetual search for weakness wherever it hides, within or without;
and so is a determined disregard for that worst of all cowardices:
middle-of-the-road average-paced mediocrity.
...and really,
the vikings repped a very hard style,
and it was dope,
but it sure wasn't very nice..
that's why warrior poetry is pretty much the art of being super-sh!tty,
and then sharing your cookies;
never quiet, never soft.....

MAYDAY...---... MAYDAY...---... MAYDAY...---...

HEY!
it's may day.
yeah.
for real.
however,
the maypole is gonna need a giant bigtop umbrella over it,
because it's a sh!t-hot mess of cold air and wet drops,
(both crashing down around us in great quantities)
and really sorta ruining the vibes of may and merriment and all that.
so lame!
on the other hand,
it's still may.
after this outburst of cloudbursts,
i'm fairly sure it's gonna get warmer.
albeit maybe not by much.
then again, it may not.
ha.
i guess it doesn't matter, anyway-
i'm headed to the tattoo studio either way,
and the super dissatisfaction of a day of working
during a workers' righteous labor day isn't lost on me,
not even one little tiny bit.
lucky for me,
i've got the fresh memory of a super summery supper
to hold me over and help me along.
neighbors,
check the banh-mi-chay-type teleport:

are you serious?
am i serious?
this is all pretty serious!
reppin' that new hottness with some vegan vietnamese sandwiches?!?!
yep.
SOOOO expert.
that's a thing.
let me also mention, as a matter of real-life documentarian reporting,
without a hint of hubris,
that my vegan homemade roast game definitely goes to eleven.
really real talk on that one, kids.
pan-fried post-oven-cooled settled-down slices of that sausagey tube
of tofu and seitan and spices and smoke and stuff?
just what the sandwiches needed, for certain.
stacks on stacks of it, to maximize flavor, and coverage, at once.
laid over thinly sliced cukes as the cold crunchy base layer.
seasoned sweetened salted rice wine and lemon juice pickled
daikon radish and carrot slaw,
infused with coriander and black pepper and celery seed,
for a semi-spicy soft sauerkrauty sexiness.
and that coupled with pickled jalapenos for extra heat,
and sriracha for that last little extra extra bit of hottness on your palette,
with just a dash of scallion sprankles to make sure the light textures
stayed sharp and crisp with each and every single bite.
that's the way the middle of a between-bread feast should be.
don't be dumb.
between-bread, though, means that those bookends need to be brutally rad.
that meant we had to get molto motivated,
with vegenaise spread on a long, fat fresh baguette sections,
that were then toasted to an expert level
of crusty-outside/creamy-inside activation!
damn,
it feels good to get down on a big ol' plate of leafy goodness.
i mean it.
we repped an asian-idealized walpurgisnacht,
celebrating our passage out of winter.
nice.
and those salads, friends?
word the F* up.
so many light and airy warm-weather evoking eats
on a cold dark busted wet stupid night.
we made summer for dinner,
because that's just the way we like it.
the kumquats were a big hit with my dinner guests.
i'm just sayin'-
tiny eat-'em-all-up one-bite oranges are just s'cute!
awwwwwwwwwww.
***********
may day!
no matter what,
today is the day.
i s'pose that means i gotta get it goin' on.
ready or not,
it's loud fresh hardness, for your face.
no parades,
no poles,
no nothin'...
well,
except for taking it all too far,
all day long,
and making sure too much is the only amount available.
over the top and over the limit-
there is only ever going to be more of all of this,
and today is a perfect example;
never quiet, never soft.....

rabbit.....RABBIT.....!

it's the first of the month!
and all the new hottness that comes along with that,
including the collateral calendar flip,
is all of it absolutely in F*ing full effect.
.....especially the magically worded mantra.
yeah.
you know what's up.
first thing, four syllables, fresh from my face like hot fire spit-
the merry merry month o' may gets it's fair share
of cultivated coincidences courtesy of superstition
and the fortuitous circumstances that surround speaking
the same word twice, to make it all twice as nice.
yeeeeeeah.
believe it or not, but do it anyway.
that's it.
and the thing of it is-
i doo-doo that four-leafed three-legged two-time lucky-footed sh!t.
for sure.
so,
obviously,
i said it this time, too.
recognize:
RABBIT, RABBIT!
word is bond, neighbors,
and that's no joke.
also,
THIS is no joke:

for real,
a cast-iron skillet,
full of fresh baked sea-salted cinnamon raisin oatcake.
that's a thing.
and that thing was expert.
100% gluten absence, quite by accident,
and also a nice wheat-free wednesday treat by request.
huh?
what's that?
you want raisiny oatmeal somethings?
i got your oaten raisin somethings, no problem.
half a cup of whole thick cut rolled fancy oats,
soaked in a bowlful of boiling water,
with three tablespoons of melted butts added in.
mmmm. melted butts...
(that's imitation butter, and that's obvious.)
until it's all absorbed,
added to a cup of the darkest brown sugar,
creamed with a stick'a'butt,
and a splash of maple syrup, and some vanilla.
that mushy gets mixed into a cup and a quarter of coarse oat flour,
and a coupla cups of quick oats, too.
a single-serving cup of applesauce to bind it, warlock-style,
and a little bit of salt, baking soda to spread it out,
and a cuppa raisins rounded out the big action.
how about demerara sugar and big rock sea salt
doing tag team turnbuckle top rope tricks,
or at least acting as sprankles on top?
c'mon, friends-
it's a giant cookie pie,
in a giant black pan.
soft and sweet and salty and super-rad.
april's ending is today's best breakfast dessert.
that's real.
***********
it's raining super hard.
the whole of the woodsly goodness is submerged
under the kind of dark clouds that make the whole day
into a timewarp fugue of grey'o'clock shadows.
ugh.
of course,
there's plenty to do,
and plenty to see,
and people i gotta talk to, too.
and i guess i'll be singing my song, and telling my story, walkin',
in the damned deluge of this cold hard rain.
that's the way it all unfolds today it seems-
busy business is well underway.
day one, month five, rabbit rabbit activated and everything...
it's all really happening,
under the gloom and glower of a downpouring pitter and patter
or floodwater-fueling freshwater washout.
yikes.
this is it,
and today is the day.
the first,
the worst,
the one and only.
just like every day;
never quiet, never soft.....