The Wordsmith at His Smithy...
blowing hot air
upon the cold coals
having to leave
without so much
as having the chance to
shoe another (incredible amount of) horse s**t
or bend another mind
all of the ancient wizened customers
of his livery
and wise guy wordsmithering services...
by driving cars, riding bikes, or, heck, just RUNNING (!)
without having to rely on some puff-winded blowhard
always trying to heat up the embers
of the dying fire
within his belly
[which... is actually getting smaller!]
see y'all next week and hey! If
anyone's gonna be running that wonderful
Mississlippery/Mississlickery 50/50/20/10/5/4/3/2/1 (?) this weekend?
See ya there!!!
Yankee Folly of the Day:
Imagine running in shorts on March the 6th. Why, it's almost like
Woodstock. "We must be in heaven, man!"