Call it an ill-fated retirement, like Jordan and the Wizards, Lance and the Tour, Favre and the Jets. Sometimes these things work out better than others.
At least now I know. I am an unrepentant dirty blogger. The cumulative result of my brief absence is exactly one poem- and here it is, for your reading pleasure:
The shit-can knight
It is winter but I live for summer-
nothing broken just the frozen ether.
Time on my side nobody lives for never-
just little girls skipping rocks on the sand.
Summer comes and then I live for fall,
and by spring nothing matters at all.
Hammers look for rusty nails and
shit-can knights search for tin-can grails.
The hands only want for chopping wood
but guts boil over spill and ooze.
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