Lebuc.tumblr.com Website Review

sussing out, shoring up your own manageable measure of balm -   in tears & travail, torn away, told of in tawdry times & trials; enduring lashed tails & barren backs over broken ground, thought fallow (…upon observing my grand-niece putting a puzzle together on the floor at a family holiday gathering ) of words yet to be unfurled or hurled, should the act happen to strike thusly, where even readers, fussy - are rapt in  fun literary runs of their own, paradoxically in concert, in their non-hasty endeavors,  cooked tasty confections also clever  surfing unschooled the crest of waves not yet waned in the rule of the written word sans any pool, or evident strain - undeferred a foundation-sturdy haven within which external & inside voices from the de*p earth, sun, wind & on special & rare occasions, yourself starting to shrivel, just slow it down, concentrate on “dig de*p your roots - de*p, i said; find the life in the soil - “& before you know, you can hit ‘em with the flower show in your mind, the pas*ers let 'em go by, or stand - their choice.” an amygdala’s flint,   not a static stint & in your face  where we dream at night & by day - live lives of a measure of delight, or if not  - one where we yet entertain hope of its possibility. after all’s said & yet undone rest - in order for the race the urge to similarly hibernate, wait out our nation’s winter season their cacophany & chaos cute to none save cultish sycophants too wound-up to supplely traipse or tap dance o'er travail, through society’s loop-de-hoops toward a lost, latent lucre & unfortunate others under shells til that blessed, foretold day un-punch the drinks, unspiked; make good on great thoughts we think - not in jealousy or hate - that, we denigrate, verily… then we can have a dialog - a living, breathing debate about it. play that song…bam! that sh*t’s alive, mam - tell me it’s not, read that, right there…bam again! it’s living lit, sir - really lit.