Snow and Cold

Yesterday it snowed about six inches here. I finished plowing out half the driveway, and the plow broke, welds snapped, blade left hanging like a loose tooth. This morning it was below zero. On the positive side, the sun has been shining all day.

I had me a treat today. A cup of cottage cheese with about half a teaspoon of Carolina Reaper Puree. That hot pepper sauce is potent, about 1.4 million scoville units. I am all flushed now and warm all over on this freezing cold brilliant day.

I have this ultra-stupid inspirational video going in the background as I type this. Ralph Smart, Infinite Waters Diving Deep, talking about slow-motioning shit as if he were hallucinating. I guess the point of this video he just posted half an hour ago is that I should become the best person I can be, mainly by cleaning the crap out of my colon. The man is moronic.

I have been trying to learn about healthy diets, but it is almost impossible with all the bullshit posted online or written in books. Nutrition is the poorest excuse for a science. Everybody seems to have their own opinions. Eat only plants. Eat only animals. Eat nothing at all (I’m looking at you Markus Rothkranz.) Right now I am kinda wondering what this good ass-prana smells like and why Ralph Smart likes to breathe it in so much.

This blog is my dumping ground. I do not know if I will ever learn how to write properly. I doubt if I will ever figure out how to make a living. This Ralph character is talking about how to upgrade my mind now. Seriously, how does an idiot like Ralph Smart make a living by posting these stupid videos on YouTube?

Alright, I couldn’t stand that man’s voice anymore. All his comments on his videos were from ass-kissers. I would like to know why every video on YouTube seems to be made for morons. Seriously, I looked up healthy sources of protein there, and all I got was dumb ass videos where they explain what protein is (your momma should have taught you this when you were 4 years old) and then go on to describe eggs, milk, meat, and beans. The god-damned vegan videos are the worst though. Poor abused animals. Those animals would never have been born or bred if people did not eat them. Domestic animals are nothing like their wild ancestors, and have been selected for docile characters and productivity for thousands of years.

So I am done typing for the time being. I have a simple dinner to cook today, steak and oven fries. I am done shopping for the day and don’t have to go anywhere. I might start up Skyrim and just waste the afternoon in game, or I might play another game and see about making a friend.

Cranky Clanky Tractor

Oh the tractor, Ford 600 from the 1950s,
Dusty red tractor in the barn with its
grading blade on the rear for a snow plow.
Cranky gasoline-smelling smoke-belching tool
with its battery charging now and a full
tank of fuel. Tire pumped up from its slow
leak over the last few years. Noisy smelly
rickety old thing to clear the snow so my
old back won’t take the brunt of a shovel.
Old Bessy on those cold mornings when I have
to hold the choke in while she warms up,
filling the barn with gasoline vapors
and the thunderous roar of internal combustion.
Michigan snow, cold and white and fluffy,
blocking the driveway, thank you county
road crew for piling it up for me
so I can mound it into dirty, icy piles
next to my mailbox. My neck craned backwards
while I gently slap it into reverse
and raise the blade with the hydraulics
so we can get out onto the road
to visit the doctor or get something
for dinner. Clothes reeking of gasoline
and hands cold from gripping metal
in the sub-zero winter.

It’s not like you could hire a plow.


Small bird flying from the morning sun,
song of joy and woe.
Field of wildflowers where the lamb
lies amid the springtide green.
Have you seen the sunrise?
Sipped the wine of solitude?
I have waited for a lifetime
and found nothing but pain.
Listen to the skylark’s trill
and fall to the florid earth.


I live in darkness, not knowing
what people think about me. Not
hearing what others say. I exist
alone in my room, listening, trying
to find the energy to exercise, to
think, to write, to draw.

Things were never this way
with me. I had motivation. I had
drive. I had a reason to live.
Now I find myself struggling
to stay out of bed.

It doesn’t help that it is cold and dark
outside in the winter, that I worry about
things like losing power, being snowed in,
and that all around me people are dying.
I should be worried about my future,
about what I will do when my Dad dies,
about how I will be able to afford
to live on my own. But, I don’t.

I live in darkness, and sleep
my life away in this room. I
need to find some friends.
I would like to form a poetry group,
a place where people like me
can share their thoughts and dreams.
Poets tend to be loners,
the outcasts of society,
malcontents and disaffected
youths in a world of grownups.

I will fight my way out
of this living grave,
and walk the bright earth
in the warm sun of dawn.

Would You?

Would you like to go with me to the moon boys,
would you like to fall to the shadow realm?
Can we have a moment of peace now here son
while the kettle boils for our pot of tea?

Would you like to roll a big fat joint boy,
would you like to blaze it on the hill?
Can I get your vote for the president now
or would you rather march off to the war?

This world is meant only for the rich boy,
what makes you think your life will ever count?
These shadows that you stare at on your screen son
are meant to keep you down, keep you down down down.


With nobody to talk to but myself,
slowly going insane from isolation,
solitary for my crime of nonconformity.

The house is warm and quiet, and the furnace fan
drones on in the basement.
I have meat roasting in the oven
for the next several days.
And I have nobody to talk to.

I had a girlfriend, she lost interest in me.
I had a job I could not do.
I had a life, people, friends.
And now I have myself.

It is cold outside, but not as cold
as these emotions that well up inside.
I have to find a way to live.

Another Shade of Gray

Morning, bleak December, Michigan
Somewhere above the clouds there
used to be a sky.
The black abyss of space is gone
beyond the vaporous haze.

I used to be a citizen of a planet
now I am a denizen of the fog.
Life despoiled of color, flayed
upon the altar of the mist.
I used to worship the sun.

We had these things called colors
ripe fruit, green grass, blue sky.
Now all is a filthy shade of gray.