fishbeer

Oct 21 2010 4:41 pm

steelhead weather

Joy is for the youth, the naïve, and the temporarily insane.  When the Phillies’ offense actually happens, I go temporarily insane.  I smile when Jimmy Rollins talks.  The bats can be quiet only for so long; they better start speaking soon.  When the first steelhead of the season grabbed the fly I went temporarily insane.  When all those chemicals flood my brain I go temporarily insane.  Tiye Phoenix makes me a little bit temporarily insane. 


You couldn’t contain the genius if you quarantined us

 

I titrate happiness.  And so are you.  


This ain’t about Frank.  This ain’t about sperm.  This ain’t about sour cream.  This ain’t even about black humor or the thug life, though people who have seen my new stomach tattoo may disagree. 


You really have to imagine the beat here, probably a dope beat, a hot beat, but certainly a beat because poetry without a DJ today is pretty tired.  24/7 it’s sell sell sell, you’re never allowed to be tired, you drink five five hour energy energy a day.  No 2:30 feeling. 


Ever.

 

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