Insomnia

Good ol' late night.
The usual stayin up til 4 AM has returned.
Not necessarily to do work. I just enjoy being up late.
I am one who believes more interesting things happen during the dark time.
And such happens to be true.

My manz was right: the freaks do come out at night.
Never in light will you see as many people so bold.
A drunk stumblin, pissin not in a bush, but in the street.
He wants to make the yellow line yellow-er.
Good think the only traffic is a drunk driver.
This drunk pisser is soon passed by a group of hooded gentlemen walkin into the woods.
One member of this party drops a little small baggy-waggy which the pisser goes a pissy-wissy on.
The crew pushes the man down on the street and forces him to lick the bag clean.
Upon completion, they pick him up, pants still hangin around his ankles, and drag them to their special bonfire episode in the semi-depths of the wood.
Just a block over, a couple is making out on a swing set.
The girl takes off her shirt, bitter cold as it was.
So you can only imagine how her "baby suckers" stood too.
Her fine companion then proceeded to motor boat her, yes he did.
They got up as if to go to a private location, to do a deed worth doing I'm sure, when they walked by an old homeless man under a lawn chair chillin in the sandbox.
The lawn chair happened to be moving up and down in a certain spot.
The guy was ready to fight, but the girl went over and let the bum do as her mate did.
Seeing this as an opportunity to open up the world of multiple sex partners, he went along with the girl's idea and pulled his car around.
They all got in, where I was to never see them again... because the windows fogged up.
While the threesome were busy with busyness and such, our drunk pisser and his new chums returned from what most have seemed to them to be an enchanted forest.
Two of them had the gaul to waltz across the street.
Together, no doubt.
Cute, but in a slobby way.
The group of herb enthusiasts returned into their dormatory leaving our humble pissant to fiend for himself.
He stumbled a bit more before trippin over a branch, faceplant style.
He then proceeded to fight with the dust, Uma Thurman Kill Bill coffin style.
All extended hand, sudden fist.
Quite the sight.

Now you tell me you can see that during the light and still have a conversation with friends across the country about politics or gossip or sex or anything that could be more intimate.
And not give a fuck about spellin or nothin of the sort.
It's just free form, as is, no apologies.
Tis why I fuckz with the night.
Early worm gets the worm, but the night owl get to savor the small rodent.
[Trust me, some fuckin NYC rat is better than Earthworm Jim anyday.]
Word.