10 thoughts on ““Wear The Boots, Dummy” Tanka 2133

    • Soy muy perozoso. But perhaps lazy recognizes me as its outward image…besides I struggle mightily many times to accomplish what usually takes me 10 minutes to get done within seven…and if I do that often enough, why my lazy ways gets rewarded with three whole seconds of while – after of course, I pay back the original investment – while I gain time to read you more often my good unlazy dear friend.

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      • No: the nose knows when to back away, and the human eye, when conditioned properly is expert at detecting movement. ‘Sides, all the black snakes about – and I suspect an Eastern Indigo family as well – nothing poisonous I need fear except those under which I shant touch without snake boots (which I do wear out in The Field), proper gloves – one pair is gaultleted to the elbows – and long denim trousers and a six-foot+ cypress sapling long ago given to me by Mother Swamp to care for and keep hand-oiled by long use and gentle removal of bark and stems over decades of use. It serves in many manners: lever, prong, pathclearer, signal-flag holder, lean-upon and bench. The laaaazy guy is a muchly fictionalized…though I sometimes stop myself in mid-reach and like as not continue the path…after making more noise. Brerr snake knows…and often Brerr Crow calls when I venture too near what it is watching as well. But I do bless and thank you for your concern. I am comforted.

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      • Yes, Mommie! I (almost) promise. I hate lying to Mom…Hey, Yas…here’s the observational question: do women accept a lie to them but not about them, and why is there a difference?

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      • There goes my attempted deflection. It works with so many, but apparently you – and my mom – never grow tired to skewering J when he wanders off-topic. I will go now and polish my galoshes. Thanks, Your Ladyship!

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