let's forget about the coup and the democratic war cries and the looting of the planet 
for a minuto, hmm?  
let's talk about my feet, my poor sweet feet, since i don't tweet. 
this is groundhog day and i dedicate this day to a couple of longstanding anarchist soles 
i feel the fondest tenderness and twinkly appreciation for- 
my feet, my funny funny feet. 
this groundhog day is the last day of my two weeks of pillage. 
336 foot hours logged abed.
i hope that is a sign of spring and the incipient emanation of dancing feet, but i admit 
i'm a little scared to let go of my antibiotic pills for fear the gremlins 
may still lurk in the  lambent layers of my hopeful skin. yes, i am convinced 
on the quietest authority, skin, especially this skin i'm residing in, is ever so hopeful.
fill, fill, fill! a bootiful spring it shall be.
my feet used to tell me when the temperature dipped down low, now maybe with their new skin they will be prognosticators of spring.
fill, fill, fill! a bootiful spring it shall be.