Tuesday, February 10

odds and ends.

in-between walk-ins of an epic level of under-rewarding stature,
i frayed away the cheapest of paint brushes in an effort to make something
 more interesting than the weak-sauce and wearisome winter waterbabies
that threatened to ruin my afternoon.
i wasn't having any of that.
i'm still not having any of that.
there is always the chance, on a snow day, especially,
that of the many anythings that can happen, all of the will be bad.
it's the infinite true inner nature of nature,
and the odds will always be in her favor...
nature wins,
and sometimes, she's assisted by nurture,
as an overture to an impossible expenditure of creatures masquerading as people,
hoping to pass the scrutiny of an attention-paying worthy warrior poet like myself.
y'know?
i'm sayin'-
sometimes, these weirdies that show up, in snowstorms, especially,
are even scarier in my carefully controlled environment,
than they would be in their  normal habitat.
possibly because i avoid doo-doo buttery sh!tshacks,
and trailer hovels as a general rule, so my exposure is normally limited at most.
yikes!!!
they were out in force in the freshly driven whiteout wetness yesterday, though.
i didn't let it get me down,
but,
it might've manifested as handlebar moustachios
through the subconscious connection of my thoughts and actions.
i'm steady representin' on these craft paints, kids.
check the seltzer-can-twelve-pack-back-type teleport:
a technologically-inclined extra-fresh redcap gnome!
gnome sayin'?
awwww, c'mon.
a captain of the bobotronic hip-wader invaders!
that's right. neighbors...
no horde of weirdies is gonna keep me off of this garbage-art makery.
i have it in me, and i've got to get it out.
word up.
*
however
i also sometimes need some other things in me.
whoa!
not like that.
i'm talking about breakfast.
and breakfast, in the bitter, brutal cold winter woods means one thing:
yuuuuuuuuuup.
panniecakes!
i gotta get those nutrients, duders.
it's too cold not to stock up on some extra-heavy-duty fuel.
i'm shivering in my skin, rattling my bones, and crabbing my fingers...
but,
not for long.
a real maple syrupy man-stack of 'cakes in my bellyhole,
and paints awaiting me at the studio?
i've got a day of doin' stuff ahead of me,
and i'm all powered up for it, too.
this is it;
never quiet, never soft.....

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