Wednesday, January 7

older and more busted.

i'll bet you guys didn't know i was born to be big baby jesus, did you?
well,
it's true.
at least, i think it's as likely as not to be my destiny.
i'll bet you wu-TANG fans all thought that was ol' dirty bastard's domain.
you're not wrong, exactly.
only, it isn't just the ol' dirt dog who reps that b.b. j. jauns,
dirt mcgirt wasn't born on the right day to align the stars an' that.
i'm not an astrologer,
so i can't be one hundred percent sure on the specific times and locales..
but on the ones,
i DO know that this is a thing:
yep.
today is the day.
harder, and louder, and waaay flippin' colder, and fresher,
and worthier, and more expert than ever.
that's real.
it's my mutha-F*ing ever-lovin' berfday.
and it turns out that my berfday IS christmas,
if you know where to look for it.
so lemme get a soul-clap,
and some bouncy tambourine shakes, an' that,
and let me just ask you one time, while it's fresh in your mind-
who's the baby jesus?
ummmm,
mmmhmmmm.
i think it's me.
awwwwww.
i'm thirty nine years old today, neighbors.
the crappiest chappy capricorn billygoat gruff,
and i'm not going quietly into this next year.
no way.
mathematically,
it's three thirteens that make up this magic number,
but i'm crossing my fingers and clenching my teeth that
i'm not going to activate the square of bad luck for the year.
i s'pose it could be a good thing, too?
i don't know how, but i'm willing to keep an eye out towards the positive.
hahaha.
c'mon,.
that's not a thing.
however,
being old and busted,
and not letting that stop me in my tracks on this negative degree day,
is just the first step in starting this final pre-forty year of my life off right.
you know the rules:
stay ugly, stay dope.
the former remains assuredly certain,
the latter often shows up late,
which is occasionally better than never.
awwwwwwwwww.
i've got a day planned,
with travel and food and people and places and other nouns.
it's all really happening,
right now.
ethiopian christmas means the broken flowers soundtrack
is what we're listening to today.
big black baby jesus likes his east african jazz, after all.
***********
did i eat berfday bagels brought over for breakfast?
yeah!
and i've well-wishes which have been rollin' in since yesterday.
and that's nice-
knowing some folks care about that sort of sh!t.
this is it.
today.
my big action barbarian ball-out berserker berfday,
and i plan on making the absolute most of it.
i am definitely not getting any handsomer,
but i might be making myself more interesting.
that's the formula for fomenting wild eyed,
graying (and disappearing) haired, wizardly wordly, weary, worldly,
white-mountaintop warrior poetry,
from the scalding skalds to the battle-beastly bards.
that's what i am, that's what i do,
that's What Is.
today, all day, the unfurling folds of this origami'd secret plan,
all animal angles,
and infinite nature,
are letting all y'all know that it's another 'nother christmas,
and that my undignified and doubtlessly dubious divinity is worth celebrating.
i hope i have more fun than you do, duders;
never young, never better..... 

No comments: