SPUDBUCKET!

two large potatoes-
red ones, with the skins still on, sliced into wedges,
tossed into a bowl with a spoonful of olive oil,
and then dusted with Garlic Powder, Onion Powder,
smoked paprika, hot paprika, turmeric, and coriander seed,
plus pink salt and fresh cracked black pepper-
then arranged in a single layer on a parchment-lined baking tray,
and thrown into the oven while it heated up to 400℉.
really.
just a couple of taters gettin' roasted in a dress-up party of seasonin'.
that's expert.
and when they were crispy and golden,
i added them to a hot pan with some red onion strips and ho'sauce,
fried 'em for a  few minutes,
threw 'em in a fancy bowl i found on top of my fridge,
and garnished 'em with scallion sprankles.
what was that like?
it was like this:

POTATOES!!!!
i'll eat  a bucket of spuds for brekkie.
why not?
every shirt i own looks bad on me anyway,
so adding a heapin' helpin' of starchy rib-stickin' tubers isn't gonna hurt much.
first thing in the morning, and i'm just woofin' down baked potatoes with flavorin'.
yup.
*
i used to spew all my feelings out like a lava-spit vomit-flume
of scenery-chewing angst and outrage.
these days,
i bury the vast majority of them under a mountain of deliciousness.
however,
it turns out i must have a LOTTA feels,
because they're beginning to show through my skin.
yeah.
i'm not big boned,
but my average sized bones are getting surrounded by big flesh.
that's a mountain of meat, made out of deliciousness, to smother those emotions, man.
yikes.
and is that better than excavating all the anguish and anger, sorrow and spite,
jealousy and fear and fury???
i think so.
i mean, i still feel joy and mirth and love and attachment-
i still feel amusement and amazement and motivation....
but i will collapse and be crushed or consumed by any of those negative ones.
think of it like the national debt.
nobody expects it to get paid off, just indefinitely deferred until all economies are defunct.
yeah.
that's it.
my heart will explode from joy or pain before i dredge up anything awful on purpose.
whether i go out full or empty has yet to be determined,
i'm hopeful for the former and resigned to the latter;
never quiet, never soft.....