The third incarnation
Of the green blob
Tenaciously grips the drain lip,
Threatening
A fourth invasion.

I have a difficult time saying, Awkward.
And it's not easy to spell.
It isn't forward, or backward,
Just awkward.
Oh! That was awkward, the duped say.
He's awkward, but will grow into those feet, quipped the coach.

When I met you again,
Awkward hardly was enough to define the moment.
And, months later, it's still awkward being near you.
I need to touch your hand, purposefully,
To get over this awkwardness, because
I don't see it in your eyes,
Or hear it in your voice.

We don't have time for awkwardness;
A word so onomatopoeic,
It's awkward saying it.

The Big Bang is soundless.
The galaxies dim.
The universe contracts.
Compared to you.

Evolution has peaked.
Humanity is humane.
Nature can nurture.
Compared to you.

Family takes root.
Generations prove lineage.
I, Me, Mine are ours.
Compared to you.

Life has no end.
Death has no beginning.
Compared to you.

Don't believe, for one second,
They'll hear nice things from me.
Were you dying for some kind of originality?
Well, let me just say,
It's still death by stupidity.
I'm telling you now,
I have nothing to say.
No one will hear of your generosity
(though we all benefitted);
Or your loyalty (of which I know firsthand);
Your discretion (none ever accused you of less).
I can't find the words. I'm speechless.
I warned you.
Stop smoking (both)
Stop drinking (especially every morning, afternoon and evening)
Stop being idle (and your posture *****)
Stop being a lap dog (stop licking boots)
Stop this slippery ***** of a lifestyle (there's ground below)
Stop taking bad advice.

You didn't Stop.
Now you're stopped.

That's all I have to say. Not much. Is it?

She said I was her first true love,
And one day she'd marry me.
I told her another might object to that,
For I'm not what you seem to see.
You see, there were three others,
That said the same to me;
And I married the one,
The only one,
The Mother of those three.

Napoleon stayed in Elba,
Pulling his bone apart;
Lenin was in Siberia,
So deep, none heard him ****.
Adolph passed his time in Landsburg,
Hardening his heart;
And Don's in Mar-a-Lago
Perfecting his Con art.
He's no Monte Cristo,
Righting perceived wrongs;
He'll fleece all his believers,
In stealth, like Viet Cong.

Heap o' problems.
Elliot! Please fix!