out back toasting a Padron
sipping some 101
I’ve got a Miller open too
it’s fucking hot
and summer isn’t here yet
(officially anyway)
the flies are doing their thing
crashing into my skull
landing on my head
trying to drown themselves in
my brown fluid of delight
I now have a new problem
on top of the heat and flies
these motherfucking gnats
can’t a man relax in peace?
don’t answer that
I won’t like what I hear
it’s a green day
very vivid
the magnolia tree that I transplanted
from the Eight Mile house (not Detroit)
is relishing in the Baldwin dirt
reaching for the heavens
my wife picked the first
ripe figs of the season today
I wish I liked figs
my dad and grandmother loved them
they taste sort of like sweat mixed with cum
with a slightly sweet undertone to me
we have numerous small lemons again
starting on the tree we thought was dead
my plum tree
however
is a frigid barren bitch
Gloomy Forebodings 