Tuesday, March 31

in like a liar, out like a lame.

                  dear march,
                         
                             F* you in your big dumb face.
                            you started out pretty rotten,
                            and somehow managed to unerringly stay that course,
                            through thirty one chances not to be such a d!ck.
                            ....way to follow through on sucking all the balls.
                            i'm glad you're leaving,
                            and i promise i won't miss you
                                                                         
                                                                                 love,
                                                                                   albie
-
we all know that time passes too quickly,
and with nowhere near enough results to show for the daily ins and outs;
on top of that,
we've had a march that resembled a january freeze-out
so much more than any springtime hints and inklings
that we would've and could've expected and/or preferred.
damn.
we new englanders, especially us northern folks,
sure do win for hardest styles this time around.
i thought march was supposed to be a mild little baby on it's way out.
no way, neighbors.
we've got 'sgusting gusts of gale force gayness making our already
below-freezing airflow into a bitter icing bite of windy sh!ttiness.
it's just not cool, man.
snow and wind and cold, under crowded clouds,
as we're getting ready for april's (most likely snow) showers makes
all the woodsly goodness more of a contest of wills....
the very real struggle of man vs. nature has never once been about victory
for the victims of time and space, spirit and memory,
and the forces that the wild raging outdoor world has at her disposal
for use towards our disposal.
nature wins.
if not immediately, then eventually,
and there's no getting around it.
damn;
never quiet, never soft.....

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