it’s october two thousand and eight
and it’s hotter than i like, too hot
damn near 90 for the past 4 days
which doesn’t work when looking
at leaves of crimson, gold and yellow
and wanting to drink a stout or a porter
but the temps say to drink a saison or
a hopped up ale with citrus nose and
clean palate for the imbibed pleasure
was out mtbing in brown county and
made love right then and there like
it was meant to be, that hour or so of
pleasure twisting and turning up and
down, flow felt as one being happening
in time and place that won’t be duplicated
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