Top left in next got a birds nest
you´ll see a shadow
which is hanging a bit “wallow wallow”
cutting trees today
before the cold of may.
So early in the morning
i might be exporing my screwed up novel
thinking how I have no studies about literature
don´t have the time to read much, as such I fall
asleep after a days of physical work that comes…
I did get the call after I posted the first post
about that Boris dude, quite a cool ghost
I can build a house, wire it up, carpentry, gardening,
now cutting down trees, you name it.
I can probably make a bomb out of a snowball.
It wasn´t me in that tree, since that is family property
but through my well placed contacts in high levels of government
I get those random jobs, which are not for snobs.
Not as easy as it sounds cutting trees and for that matter putting
up a brick wall, you need to know how to mix good the cement
so it doesn´t fall later on on someones lament, the wiring
you can get your hair up in a shock of electrifying
basically I am what you call a handy man, but since
i don´t like that term I´ll just earn my name MacGiver
the mean street writer.
Fuck, am I tired now after just three hours of cutting, pulling,
rearanging, moving logs from here to there, so people in that house
can put a cool fire in their living room, to keep them warm.
Manual labour, or skilled labour, does pay me instantly and without
a warranty neither declaring to my goverment, a-holes of a torrent.
How the hell do I get time to finish a freaking novel, keep up with the blogs,
prompts, rants! Read about how to write a novel, poetry study in my body.
Then mind shifting to go out in the freezing cold and end up in my real world
with people that I like but certainly not the types reading philosophical spilling.
Then back to the writing and wordpress exploring, plus shifting through sites
that can provide a submission for my permission to get a published edition and then…
back to cutting logs, wiring houses, put up cement walls so, when is it my time to
sit down and scratch my balls? Seems being a MacGiver has no time for vacation
and be also a scoobadiver. Grateful though,this guy called for that job, a bit
of more money on my pocket to pay all the freaking policecomplaints I´ve accumulated
through the years, of running around drinking spears, but any ways any hows, I like
to hunt cows and now if you need something done, call me, MacGiver number one.
Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.