six minute blog: no more, dread less

It's now down to six minutes; six minutes to add a pertinent tome or form to shape the way the outlook will... shit, now it's five minutes or so. Five minutes to envelope the remaining time with something prosaic or lovely as one gazes out the window, seeing colors slowly emerge from the... shit, four minutes left. Four minutes to scribe the light, script the hey, slow the morning process down to... shit, three minutes. Three ways to frown, three to glower, that eventual shower, powder noses, whatever, what all means to approach a day of deeds and... shit, two minutes. Not much left to say or grapple in terms of mulch; fertilizer or adage. Shit. A minute left. That's about all one can do before the hour strikes Greenwich mean time subscription and subservience. Ah well, so it goes... shit, I'm done.