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Kelly McManus Dec 2019
Cornfed and nodding
the herd agrees that suicide's
way to stay alive
          
                         Kelly McManus
Rachel Armstrong Nov 2021
there was a little girl
with brown hair and green eyes.

when she was very young,
her family seemed broken,
and she became very quiet.
before long, she was able to forget
and as she became older,
she began to talk again.
she began to read,
and everyone told her she was gifted.
she could read far above her age
and she could easily retain knowledge
and could even infer things she had never read at all.

her family protected her
and kept her safe always
and yet, she was so sheltered
that she did not learn to survive
and as she grew older
others found her smart
clever beyond her age
but she was reserved,
and once more,
she became quiet
to her,
the world was confusing
and especially people
and she worried every time she spoke
that her words would be taken
in a wrong, hurtful way
she was afraid of being judged
but had nothing to be judged for.

amidst all this,
the girl was lost.
she did not know where she would go,
or what she would do,
or how she would make a difference.
when she seemed most lost,
she met a boy.

the boy was also alone,
and struggled with his words,
and feared being judged.
she did not notice him at first,
but he vied for her attention,
and soon enough,
the two admitted their love.

they grew closer and closer
and the girl finally felt,
for once in her life,
she had something to live for
someone to care about
and she finally found hope in the lonely dark.

she decided, on her own,
that she would do anything for him,
and would try her hardest to keep him safe,
and to give them both a life.

as she grew older still,
her resolve never wavered.
she faced many trials
learned things she never thought she could,
and overcame her own weaknesses
and made them her strengths
all in the pursuit of the happiness
she envisioned with the boy,
in some distant future,
that seemed not so far away.

she was finally proud of herself,
and became more confident with her words
and stopped worrying about being judged.
but she felt something was wrong.
she felt her soulmate was keeping something from her,
and when she asked, he fell silent, every time.

she screamed and yelled and asked what was wrong
because she only wanted to help, to understand
but he said nothing.

and every sleepless night
she would finally find respite
and say she was sorry,
and that it was her fault
for overthinking
and worrying.

the feeling never left her
but her infatuation kept her from realizing
that the fear was well justified
and she had known the truth all along,
but refused to accept it
because the hope of that future
could not ever be replaced
without losing something of herself.

when the little girl had finally found her way
and had overcome her struggles,
and became something greater
than she had ever once thought she could
the boy disappeared.

she asked after him and asked his friends,
and asked anyone she thought might know him
and know where he went or that he was safe,
mostly that he was safe. only that he was safe.

she met another, who echoed her concerns
but in the same manner,
that this person loved him too,
and she realized,
as the other did,
what had happened.

the girl, stricken in grief
over knowing her hope was gone,
lost as fast as it had sparked,
knowing things would never be the same,
finally found the boy again.

she told him she knew,
and she had accepted it,
but she wanted to know why.
he admitted everything,
and she believed him when he said
he did not think he was good enough
to be a partner to someone like her
and had fallen into his lies and deception
to stay with her for just a little longer
he was on the street,
and he had given up,
but she had not.

she was now stronger,
and she saved him from himself,
and despite the wrongs he had committed,
she still stretched her own willpower
as far as it could go
to save his life and keep him safe,
because despite shattering her heart,
and leaving it broken,
she still loved him,
if not as a life partner,
as they would never be, and never could be,
but as someone who had proven
that she could be loved
she still felt he had helped her overcome herself.

unable to bear him any longer,
she asked him to leave, for good
she did not want any repayment
she did not want him to have debt
she simply wanted him to move on
and find a better life, and to be honest
to himself, and to those he knew
and she hoped her kindness
would help the boy change
but she would never know for sure
because he was gone forever.

as her pain worsened and corrupted her,
she finally was unable to bear
seeing the dream she once had
broken and lost over and over,

every day,

every hour,

every minute,

painful and excruciating

in a place she wanted to call home
that instead became a prison
of her own self-deception
and self-hate.

so, the little girl began to wander
in dreams and in flesh
and she found peace in nightmares
and sought dysphoria and introspection,
dancing with Alice and singing with Tina,
because she had lost so much of herself
she felt she had to journey to reclaim what was lost.

she searched every nook,
every cranny,
every alley,
high and low,
but found nothing
and ran out of hope in the process.

after journeying as far as she could go,
she collapsed, and gave up.
she fell on her back,
and stared at the stars,
and wondered how she could possibly live
without the idea of him, not of what was, but what she hoped for.
but she knew it was over, and her dreams were gone
forever
and ever
and ever.

she stood up, one more time
and met her family again.
but this time, her fears were realized
they were broken, moreso than her
and with all she had learned
she could finally see it
and realizing this,
she knew she could not go home
and that there was nothing for her there
they disagreed,
but she knew better.

she met many more people as she wandered
now aimless, and often kowtowing
to those she did not care for or respected.

she began to listen

and to hear their cries,

and their anxieties,

and their worries,

and their dreams,

and their fears.

and she realized

that all these people

were just like her.

they all had the same problems
the same anxieties,
the same worries,
the same dreams.

her final weakness had been conquered
and she understood others
often better than they understood themselves.
they were all a step behind
they still worried about and misunderstood
the intentions and assumptions of others
while to her, it seemed obvious.

and as the little girl listened and helped
and brought peace and comfort to many souls
who had no other way to find it,
she had forgotten about herself
and she began to slowly slip further and further
away from who she was, and away from who she wanted to be
until she found herself giving everything to help others
and never once helped herself.


when asked how she knew their worries so well
and could explain their fears and doubts
with such clarity and ease

she said she had felt it all before

many times

many, many times

and rather than be defeated by them
she reflected, and pondered
and wondered why she felt this way
and with her gifts, of language and reason,
she could put her feelings to words
but never for herself, only for others
because she needed a catalyst to bring this talent to bear.

the girl became more world-weary
and became more alone
as her gifts were temporary and ephemeral
and she lost those she helped
she never became angry, or discouraged
she knew they had their own lives,
and she was satisfied if they had, even a little
appreciated her time, and her thoughts
which had all come from pain, and strife
that she had been able to survive.

as she lost the last of her friends
and lost the last of her hope
and finally crumpled, in a sorry state
and found her own strength wanting
after carrying so many others on her back
and after all that had happened,
and after all she had done,
and after all she had endured,
thinking of everyone she hurt,
everyone she helped,
every heart she broke,
and those who had broken hers
she finally found
somewhere in herself
the courage she had thought she lost long ago
and let herself cry.
old willow May 2020
Swift was dusk, reminding people how time flies by quickly before one realized.
Their world was separated,
two boundaries that could never met,
as was fated by heaven itself.

Slip from the crack of the boundary,
The two illusionary figures collide.
Stretching across the land,
White flakes cover every nook and cranny,
Their figures were like two magnets attracted toward one another.

She knew of his name that was covered in blood.
He had walked a path filled with corpses,
the murderer who slaughtered millions with his sword.
Looking at him from a distance, she laughed.
Nothing was needed to be said,
for words were meaningless to the both of them than the look they gave to each other.

The country is broken, though hills and rivers remain,
In the city in spring, the grass and trees are thick.
Chaos, like oil mixing with water, order is not to be anchored.
Enemy, are many;
Peace is few.
In this world, my enemy is numerous as clouds,
Are you willing to accompany my path?

Her smile was the blooming spring that would be coming.
Somehow, she had always believed in him.
He would never fail her.
If he walked the path filled with obstacles, then she would accompany him!

Alone in the northern lands,
The two of them burrow their feet in the earth,
Hands held gently against one another as they faced each other.
A tranquil solemnity befalls on the place,
as all of nature was to witness the soon unity of the couple,
Far from the turmoil of the world.

First, Prayer to the heaven and earth present to witness their love.
As if signifying their presence,
The earth shook, the clouds cleared.
Their heads held high, and their gaze locked onto each other.

A bow to Heaven and Earth,
This bow is as surreal as a dream.
First thanking Heaven for bestowing conformity upon the two of us,
Allowing me to meet you among billions of people,
Till white-haired yet never parted.

A bow to Heaven and Earth,
Kneeling love and hate into dust,
Before kowtowing the earth, permitting a place of quietude for the both of us.
let us imagine the world hatred as congratulatory,
In the end, neither of us owning the other anything,
This life, this moment,
There are only the twos of us.

And the final bow to Heaven and Earth,
the last to represent that they would stick through thick and thin,
a bow to each other,
Immemorial promises to remind each other that they are one yet not, alone yet together.
Their conviviality was sent as a prayer to Heaven and Earth,
coveting their thoughts for peace,
And may it last forever more, under the eternal heaven.

If not this life,
In the next life,
May we meet again.
transmitted ****** talks
(partially presented pablum pertaining
     particularly - president ***** (PAC -
     ******* action *** mitt tee)  
     portfolio ******* philandering)

baneful boorish boastful bullheaded
     Brobdingnagian beastie boy balks.
conspicuously cavalierly crudely curtly
     cavorts, capitulating, claiming,
     championing crying chauvinistic
     concupiscence, ****** cupidity caul
     king crooked cowboy cakewalks.

Donald daringly, dastardly, defiantly,
     demonstrably, deplorably, deprecatingly,
     devilishly, divinely dumbfounded,
     duplicitously desultory, debauched, duckwalks.
eccentric effrontery, egregiously enervating,
     excitedly exculpatory, extremely evil eyestalk.

"fake," faultily fervently fiendishly flagrant
     fool, frightful.
gaffe galling, gamesome gawker, generating
     gerrymandering.

harboring hectoring heinously hellishly
     hideously horrendously horrible hulk.
ignominious illicit ilk, imbecilic immodest
     immoral impetuous, impishly impudent,

     incarcerate, incinerate indecently, indecorous,
     iniquitous, intently intolerant, irascible
     irksome, itching ii incite iv iiiiii ix ******* izards.
jowly ******* jackdaw jackknifing jaywalking
     jumping ****, jilting jinn.

knowingly keeping kryptonite, ***** Kardashian
     kvetches, kris kringle ken kool, kissing kitty,
     kosher kumquats kippered, k-nine kooky korps,
     kowtowing ku klux **** kinsfolk.

legal leafstalk lawlessly locked, lacerated,
     lambasted, languished lost lively lust,
     limped, legal levity limited.

menfolk made macho mission. many moons
     monthly mandate marked maybe mars,
     mercurial maladroit monkey manumission modified
modus mystifying maze moonwalk.
Sophia Granada Apr 2020
You love flowers in the springtime, like a classic girl in love,
Sweetness heavy in the air when sugar’s not enough.
All the lies that daddy told go down better with honey,
And gifts make you uncomfortable if they cost too much money.

So, take weeds from the street, and steal prizes from the garden
To soften up the heart inside you that the world has hardened.
You like it that they’re for the Dead, for Maidens, and the Sick,
For of the three you often feel that you could take your pick.

They make you understand the things so emptily talked about
By Film and English majors running at the mouth for clout:
Rebirth and Renewal, and the fever of the Spring,
How Death pervades the world and cracks up every lovely thing!

You hold the promises of these that ooze from every flower,
Collected on your raw red knees, kowtowing in the bower.
You press *** flat in poetry, and Death in dictionaries.
The Garden of Eden makes good tea when dried with leaves and berries.
While outside nor'easter
howls like banshees
vents temperature dips
into low double digits
fire breathing friendly
dragon (cue Barney

purple dinosaur)
crackling hearth,
yours truly snuggling
close proximity warming,
thawing, quelling...
cockles and muscles

atavistic visitations hover
brushes within subconscious
purring, mew zing catacombs
kickstarting, harkening,
dawning... **** sapiens
lion eye zing forebears

dormant memories thaw
predators vastly outnumbered
scattered goo goo dolls,
and beastie boy bands
recherché representatives
toehold barely latched

precarious niche easily
activated evolutionary quirk
imperceptibly bumped uglies
begot robust progeny
offspring expanding comfort zones
penumbra expanding edge of night

dark shadows receding further
outer limits of twilight zone
phantasmagoric shifting shapes (hint...
think Plato's One Republic)
phantasmagoric shifting shapes
alluring, beckoning, daring...

establishing, foraging, growing...
harvesting, invoking, jabbering
kowtowing, livingsocial,
matchmaking (ha)...
now lemme zip forward
bajillion years circa 1970's

British comedy troupe
nudge nudge wink wink,
know what I mean courtesy
Monty Python's Flying Circus
rollicking humorous sketches
oft times tackling primal urges

proto humans initially verbally grunted,
where guffawing laughter
rewarded survivalist basic instinct
temporarily staving rabid
quivering premonitions outside
creature comfort boundaries,

whereby Geico Caveman
will remain till... dis ember
by George thoroughly appetizer,
viz good chilled wren plus
pheasant under glass
burns away hunger pangs.
Yenson Jul 2023
And in the scant arenas of ungracious limited
they mill and cavort in talentless skits
frailing adornments in the fineries of nothing
it is as always to do what they do best
for in foggy mists blazes the inherent rituals
of overcompensating moribund minds

And age old fears embraces the samenesses
tasting damp salts in unison breeds
red diktats snaps out ingloriously force fed
overeact overseason overcompensate
herds free will and actions die to commands
and in fear weak heads acquiesce

Like sheep like cattles like leemings et all
overcompensating as wont
dare yo talk smile befriend or show kinship
to the regal fellow in crosshairs
all go and batter thine inferiority complexes
be base be crude be rude

And in the scant arenas of ungracious limited
coralled in fear of expulsion
fragile egos crave mass invite and acceptance
in dread to be thought kowtowing
they quake and flip overcompensating for show
yet just cowards showing calling cards
Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect. Mark Twain

Sometimes the majority just means all the fools are on the same side. John Kennedy

It is not worth an intelligent man's time to be in the majority. By definition, there are already enough people to do that. G. H. Hardy
When he’s not sexually assaulting women,
Insulting war heroes, the disabled,
Veterans, Gold Star families

When he’s not hoarding
Classified documents, cheating contractors,
Hiring illegal immigrants, stiffing employees,
Kowtowing to dictators, chumming around
With Jeffrey Epstein and lusting after young girls
Who remind him of Ivanka at age thirteen

When he’s not committing tax fraud,
Filing for bankruptcy, peddling nuclear secrets,
Mocking evangelicals, threatening election workers
And his own vice president

When he’s not promising to build a border wall,
Selling products made in China,
Using campaign funds to pay his lawyers,
Conning his supporters into buying worthless
University degrees or contributing to his bogus
Charity foundation

When he’s not losing money hand over fist,
Packing the Supreme Court
Or trying to destroy the democracy,
I kind of like that little two-****** dance
Trump does at his campaign stops—

It’s kind of amusing
"Sic semper evello mortem tyrannis"
translation = thus always I
bring death to tyrants.”

Above the fray of twittering,
squabbling, and madding crowds,
an arrogantly belligerent creature deified,
yet vilified gauche, haughty lumpenproletariat
decreeing blind, deaf and dumb obeisance,
whereby upon forced Sacrificial Altar
erected golden Olympian fleeced perch,
(he acquired, effected, indoctrinated
vis-à-vis bloodless coup d'etat)
absolute dictatorship jump/
kick starting  veneration,
albeit forced subservience

buzzfeeding, fostering (long)
totalitarian reign crafting ship of state  
into figurative unwieldy beastly Leviathan
through present Century21
incorporating deterministic, fascistic,
masochistic, narcissistic, opportunistic,
and shamanistic trumpeting
holier than though malevolent fiery bombast
fulminating laws, exuding self worth
hortatory exclamations decreeing
(by fiat, that no commoner
lest they want an Escort into Crossover realm

he/she cannot afford to Dodge commands,
especially if and when Porsche
comes to shove Fiats promulgated)
absolute valued flat out sharp devotion
pledging (née requiring) pilgrimages,
where his birthplace sanctified
as cultural heritage site,
(a humble abode in backwater of Queens)
dammed, deemed, and donned
for populace to worship
and pay requisite penance de rigueur
in order to avoid premature death;

said consecration viz complex edifice
analogous to Taj Mahal
self declared god enshrined provenance,
where pathway paved with gold
courtesy self declared demigod;
(one blimey, flimsy, nasty
shortish and brutal Attila the *** wannabe),
who served daily dollop of dregs
in ***** deeds done dirt cheap demitasse
admiring, fawning, kowtowing,
primping, et cetera himself,
i.e. a Beatle browed, bobble headed

mop top orange hirsute Talking Head
(though likeness of his trademark
coiffed haired countenance
plastered across every square inch)
detested, and feared unto Caesar,
whose reflection shone thru
and across wall to wall hall
of mountain king mirrors;
meanwhile Blood, Sweat And Tears
for Fears Beastie Beach Boys
and Goo Goo Dolls with ******* aplenty
painstakingly enslaved away

raspily, tentatively verily warbling words,
(while simultaneously severely afflicted
with heebie-jeebies) sung,
(albeit barely audible) Stayin' Alive
amidst noise of torture chamber
smells of burning flesh  
as evidenced by branded, pierced,
snd tattooed rebellious insubordinates
invariably found culpable regarding lèse-majesté,
thus futilely skittering helter skelter
from his majesty paw sized hands
adorned with precious jewels monogrammed

with initials of  Frederick Christ Trump Sr
within whose grotto the heir
found solace, perserverence, and divine guidance
inspiring blistering, glorifying hymns
punishing, and withering edicts
totally tubular proclamations pronouncing
matter of fact, unquestioned imposed fealty
larger than life persona, endowed
crowned, and accorded self  supremacy,
where even divine
cosmic consciousness bows
and trembles acquiescing

toward ornery primate,
whose self crafted patriarchal
mandates imposed unquestioned vows,
where punishment meted out if questioning
of authority appeared to furrow brows
allowing, enabling and providing
totalitarian usurper re: free will ordains wows
be uttered and furor
squelched via militaristic might,
whenever fuhrer didst rouse
the public to pay homage

(even if coerced, forced, and induced)
toward faux courtly house
of seized role of Caesar Augustus
enforcing abrogation,
whence sun t'will
dance and rise to douse
the chill from the dawn
early morn, and mother earth
will be delegated to serve
world wide wagstaff slow caucus
as surrogate spouse, parent, big brother.

Dictatorial modus operandi foisted
upon ******* up public enemy re:
guarding Visigothic, oligopolistic,
hedonistic, and cannibalistic
adopted heir of vested gentry
meted staked, and yoked
fancyfeast sovereignty
intolerant per crowd-sourced
crowing diehard fulminations
denouncing trick air re:
qua hoodwinked treaty
against opprobrious, serious
reign of terror breed

ding steely dang LifeLock
self proclaimed deity
czarist gnome *****
to be (habeas corpus) writ
since this anonymous
cloaked drafted ensign gainsays nothing
as one among populous proletariat
bound and gagged if I don't claim
tyranny rigged by bourgeoisie
and get hung drawn and quartered
as a dire warning damning social compact
left to rot in hell
as a capital one threatening misfit.

Postscript:

I started with the premise
and idea of constituting
the cult of personality worship,
but found thoughts trotting off
in another direction,
and thus felt obliged
to saddle and pony up to thine
predominant sad dulled end
product te deum!
Summer re: imagery evoked today
February sixteenth 2022
now before scrolling down
reading about Old Man Winter
imagine I envision heat wave
prognostication likely months in the future,
one abominably hazy, hot
and humid sultry day,
when climate controlled central air
allows, enables and provides
man/woman made respite hooray,

a temperature regulated apartment,
whereby yours truly his head he doth lay
(under crocheted blanket)
quickly slipping into deep sleep;
the missus (madre) and her padre
(me) take a siesta
in my dream I take treadway
to Piccadilly Circus, London,
where surveillance cameras take x-ray
of suspicious character - Not Me,

while actually in reality
outside apartment b44 nor'easter
howls like bajillion banshees
vents wind chill factor
as temperature dips
into low single digits
I summon fire breathing
friendly quasi dragon
as acceptable substitute cue Barney
purple Tyrannosaurus Rex dinosaur
crackling flickering hearth,

yours truly snuggling
close proximity warming,
thawing, quelling...
cockles and muscles
atavistic visitations hover
brushes within subconscious
purring, mew zing catacombs
kickstarting, harkening,
dawning... **** sapiens
lion eye zing forebears
dormant memories thaw

predators vastly outnumbered
scattered beastie boy bands
recherché representatives
toehold barely latched
precarious niche easily
activated evolutionary quirk
imperceptibly bumped uglies
begot robust progeny
offspring expanding comfort zones
penumbra expanding edge of night

dark shadows receding further
outer limits of twilight zone
phantasmagoric shifting shapes (hint...
think Plato's One Republic)
phantasmagoric shifting shapes
alluring, beckoning, daring...
establishing, foraging, growing...
harvesting, invoking, jabbering
kowtowing, livingsocial,
matchmaking tinder (ha)...

now lemme zip forward
bajillion years circa 1970's
British comedy troupe
nudge nudge wink wink,
know what I mean courtesy
Monty Python's Flying Circus
rollicking humorous sketches
oft times tackling primal urges
proto humans initially verbally grunted,
where guffawing laughter

rewarded survivalist basic instinct
temporarily staving rabid
quivering premonitions outside
creature comfort boundaries,
whereby Geico Caveman
will remain till... dis ember
by George thoroughly appetizer,
viz good chilled Wren plus
Pheasant under glass
burns away hunger pangs.
Bob B Jan 2022
We saw from many Republicans
Their true colors yesterday
With their blind allegiance to
Donald Trump on full display.

While we paused to remember the horrors
Of January 6 last year,
We saw Republican lawmakers
Kowtowing to their puppeteer.

Aligned with white nationalists
And thugs, the Party's come to be
Unrecognizable
From the former GOP.

While members of Congress met to reflect
On what had happened a year ago,
Republicans--except for Liz Cheney--
Unsurprisingly failed to show.

Republicans in Missouri had
A fundraiser--one whereby
They celebrated the insurrection
And pushed Trump's election lie.

In interviews, two notorious
Trump sycophants mentioned their pride
In what the violent mobs had done.
Violence being sanctified?

Amplified by hostile foreign
Powers, many lies keep spreading.
With truth constantly under attack,
It's scary to think where the nation is heading.

How can lawmakers cater to Trump
And still maintain any self-respect?
Furthermore, without a backbone,
How can they even stand *****?

-by Bob B (1-7-22)
Bob B Jan 2020
If vital evidence is withheld,
In NO way can a trial be legit.
Such a trial would be a sham;
Our system of justice would take a hit.

If key, relevant witnesses
Cannot testify, then how
Can the outcome of such a case
Be valid? It can't. What's happening now

In the Senate is a travesty.
Finding the truth is not the goal.
Kowtowing Mitch McConnell
Disgustingly has sold his soul.

The president's lawyers focus on
Arguments completely off base.
They try to distract the members of Congress
With info irrelevant to the case.

Still obstructing Congress, Trump
Expects that he will be acquitted,
When in actuality,
He really ought to be committed.

-by Bob B (1-28-20)
Bob B May 2020
He longs to rewrite history--
For us to see the world through his eyes,
With help from his favorite TV station,
Which scandalously spreads his lies.

He'd love to control the media,
Eliminating the critics who
Point out his flaws. Watch him try
To shoot one on Fifth Avenue.

He caters to his oligarchs--
To those who use their power and wealth
To fill their pockets and gain control,
Often through fraudulence and stealth.

He uses kowtowing appointees to help
Create dirt on his critics to draw
As ugly a picture as he can
And violates the rule of law.

When we have a national
Emergency, and things look dim,
He does his best to cover up
The truth and makes it all about him.

He even wants political
Opponents to be locked away.
Yep, Trump is acting more
Like Vladimir Putin every day.

-by Bob B (5-15-20)
I haint no spring chicken,
("Buk buk buk buk ba-gawk!")
but in Summer re:
long in tooth sexagenarian
nostalgic for the following imagery
evoked yesterday with very little effort
(aside from sweat of my brow – just existing)
June twenty second hazy, hot, and humid
at least here within the environs -
of Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
tooth thousand and twenty four,
the air analogous to a steam bath outside,
though such insight
strictly predicated on meteorologist
as seen on the flat screen.

Now before scrolling down
lemme forewarn you of dire prediction
reading about how yours truly
doth suspire for Old Man Winter
returning with a vengeance
delivering a white July Fourth, Halloween,
Thanksgiving, Christmas,
Groundhog Day, Saint Patrick's Day...
yours truly desiring experiencing
becoming comfortably numb,
after envisioning, invoking
then summoning forth cold spell.

Should deep freeze rain (reign)
crystalline precipitation pure as the driven snow
blanketing large swaths of webbed wide world
wreaking havoc courtesy
unparalleled blizzard conditions,
would stump and confound earth scientists
suddenly finding themselves pensively *******
subsequently becoming overnight skeptics
and staunch Republicans to boot - argh,
who grudgingly, hesitatingly scrap

what seemed to be
irrefutable air tight evidence
with reams of data proving global warming
and side with deniers –
mostly non Democrats
courtesy artificial intelligence
hinting at inexplicable
significant ice age approaching,
barreling, and coming fast as a freight train
virtual models prognostication

would show Polar Vortex
engulfing the entire planet
clamping down hard
much of the United States
likely a couple short months in the future,
forecasting temperatures to register absolute zero
taxing the electric grids to heat lovely bones
chilling, freezing, immobiling civilization, whereby
government agencies regularly issuing
permanent code blue declarations,

which teeth chattering cold scenario
impossible mission to imagine or avoid
with wind chill factors in triple digits
Jack Frost overstayed courtesy welcome,
when climate controlled central heater
allows, enables and provides
man/woman made respite hooray,
apartment cozy as a poetry nook,
whereby yours truly his head he doth lay
(under crocheted blanket)

quickly slipping into deep sleep;
the missus (madre) and her padre
(me) taking a siesta until spring
in my dream I take treadway
from such new zzz land
to Piccadilly Circus, London,
welcoming me to early twentieth century
balmy weather all year round
place named Willoughby, where one
unnecessary to get bundled

and wrapped up –
like a mummy dearest  
kvetching in vain at frigid forecast oy vey,
where surveillance cameras take x-ray
of suspicious character - Not Me,
while actually in reality
outside apartment B44
one after another Nor'easter
howls like bajillion banshees
vents wind chill factor

as temperature dips
into low double digits as high,
and subzero higher negative number as a low,
I summon (with a puff) fire breathing
friendly quasi magic dragon,
an acceptable and laughable substitute
calls for none other than Barney
purple anthropomorphic
Tyrannosaurus Rex dinosaur.

Though a non-smoker of cigarettes,
I discover pleasure slowly puffing
on my pipe, and chose one at random
from among the collection
made of briar wood, meerschaum,
corncob, pear-wood, rose-wood or clay  
listening to crackling flickering hearth,
yours truly snuggling
(curled up in a little ball)
with favorite reading material
close proximity warming,
thawing, and quelling lovely bones.

For no particular rhyme nor reason
I lapse into a reverie
and hear the brutal and nasty wind
plaintively howling the song Molly Malone
her lilting voice distinctly heard
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

Meanwhile atavistic visitations hover
after hypnotizing mindscape
of twenty first century **** sapien
as flashback visions of proto humans
commingling with competing
short and nasty brutes
brushes within subconscious
purring, mew zing catacombs
jump/kick starting, harkening,
dawning lion eyes zing

thawing ordinarily dormant memories,
where forebears alive bajillion years ago
battle him of the republic
thumping their chests
and uttering primal sounds
against vastly outnumbered predators,
who make mincemeat of weakest warbler
similar to contemporary beastie boy punk bands
survival of the fittest
linkedin to anonymous

Monkey's Uncle recherché representatives
toehold barely latched
precarious niche easily
activated punctuated equilibrium evolutionary quirk
imperceptibly bumped uglies
begot robust progeny
offspring expanding comfort zones
penumbra expanding edge of night
dark shadows receding further
outer limits of twilight zone

phantasmagoric shifting shapes (hint...
think Plato's Republic in general –
and Allegory of the Caves in particular -
synonymous with Allegory of the Metals)
alluring, beckoning, daring...
establishing, foraging, growing...
harvesting, invoking, jabbering
kowtowing, livingsocial,
Ashley Madison matchmaking tinder (ha)...

now lemme zip forward
back to the future
bajillion years somewhere in time circa 1970's
British comedy troupe
nudge nudge wink wink,
say no more
know what I mean courtesy
Monty Python's Flying Circus
rollicking humorous sketches
oft times tackling primal urges
proto humans initially verbally grunted,

where guffawing laughter
rewarded survivalist basic instinct
temporarily staving rabid
quivering premonitions outside
creature comfort boundaries,
whereby Geico Caveman
will remain till... dis ember
by George thoroughly good appetizer,
viz good chilled Wren plus
Pheasant under glass
burns away hunger pangs.
Yenson Nov 2020
In stirring the ***
I can help you with some more
if you like
how about oh! ****
this digital business
trust me
all this kiss and tell
and that boy in Green wood
on bicycle
anyway I am trapped
they will think i am
kowtowing to royalty
I have to save face
I am for the masses
I need company
don't wanna be expunged
Trust me
as if I care
hurt is my game....
hahahaha

— The End —