no “poke at the ‘man'” is as outrageous as today’s reality. The ever – increasing levels of transcending absurdity – extremes in all directions – is exhausting, terrifying.
the non-stop assault on mother nature is especially rattling, a mid-march arctic blanket misplaced over southern new england . many north easterners naively shed their native salty temperament in february, like snowsuits, when unusually long stretches of t-shirt weather break the normalcy of chattering bones. like grumpy salmon, few of us swim up-stream. we fret nervously, often vocally, over the global state of things while others are giddy for the weeks of 70 degree weather in january. this abjuration is becoming normalcy; people roll their eyes, dubiously, i pass them cussing the “glorious weather.”