INKTOBER: 23,24- I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

Where the yellow-crown’d heron comes to the edge of the marsh at night and feeds upon small crabs, 

Where the splash of swimmers and divers cools the warm noon, 

Where the katy-did works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well, 

Meet Cecil. 

Booger Butt