one of whom would be
this married sexagenarian,
who recently acquired
his Senior Fare Card
courtesy Trump's big beautiful bill
dog days of summer
will experience big beautiful chill
videre licet courtesy
slated budget cuts
intimating a worse fate
than getting root canal,
whereby militant dentist
woulf blithely recount his days
as oil rig employee
when he/she uttered the phrase
let us drill baby drill
without anesthesia testing tolerance
of patient to withstand and weather
blistering pain threshold
proving laughable reputation
of ineradicable irascible self
to be indomitable macho man
proving the myth of superman
lives within yours truly
a lifelong ambition of mine to fulfill
despite Sisyphean bone crunching
true grit teeth gnashing laborious process
as flour doth get ground within gristmill,
which grievance best taken to Capitol Hill
where ice cream for Jack and Jill
but nobody hears me
the fool on the hill
trucking, peddling, and naysaying
flavor of the month seasoned with krill
(don't knock it till you try it)
farmed from famed lake,
where plenty of fish
and seek reachers
once frolicked within
said body of freshwater
subjected to eutrophication
after toxic brew got poisoned
declared a superfund site
pungent putrid pox drained
basin subsequently relegated as a landfill
forever an eyesore devoid of wildlife
prospects for resuscitation
of thriving habitat
back to former glory days
and haven for flora and fauna
non-existent or nil
similar to forestalling
or reversing prospect
leaving countless commuters
within southeastern Pennsylvania
(come beginning Aug. 24,
when more than 30 bus routes
will be eliminated citywide)
seriously impacting (upending)
the lives and livelihoods
of people who solely depend
on public transportation
to reach their destination,
whether that be school or work,
which frantic pandemonium
will find metropolitan citizens
of Philadelphia going berserk,
whereat commander in White House
sports (analogous to Cheshire Cat,
or the Grinch who stole Christmas) a smirk
happy as a clam economic doldrums will lurk.

Meanwhile some companies may go bust
dramatically spiking unemployment
currently experiencing
a 0.682% decrease in employment
from 2022 to 2023, dropping
from 286,000 to 284,000 employees,
but the looming shuttering
of a vital transportation hub
linkedin within the Delaware county may skyrocket
not only regarding those skilled technicians
and the industries that supply mechanical parts
but valuable individuals
linkedin to vehicular repair or career drivers,
plus industries supplying uniforms,
and office support staff who monitor safety.

signals the eighth year we lived
at our present location,
where fringe benefits (a plug) for perks
living at 2 highland manor drive.

Expanse of green acres draped
like a petticoat when ye arrive
birds of a feather flock together
and bees gather collect nectar,
pollen, and water to bolster their hive
verdant vista sports
spot for wildlife to thrive
such as; whitetail deer, Redd Foxx,
Easter bunnies (such as Peter Cottontail,
Osterhase (the German name),
and Peter Rabbit,
and the occasional garter snake
that shows up unexpectedly
within one bedroom apartment unit b44.

Not only state of the art plumbing
for public restrooms now in the works
but facilities at Highland Manor apartments
located in Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
in the 19473 zip code
offers one bedroom and studio apartments
(built in 1969 with 84 units)
geared for sixty plus year old young Turks
adjacent to Maple Hill Community
abuts against pristine physical environment
offers (luscious green acres
at petticoat junction)
sporting residents such as yours truly
who would best be described
with individuals with their harmless quirks
far from the madding crowd,
yet linkedin to historical networks
sporting pleasant female management klerks
(a term, often a surname,
derived from the Dutch word
for "clerk" or "scribe")
though less ideal for couples
with young children,
who clamor to know howstuffworks
and might best visit
Valley Forge National Park
and amble along redoubts and earthworks
or if in the mood to drive
to visit Pennsylvania Dutch Country
(as a day tripper for a nowhere man)
head off to County Berks
home to an Old Order Mennonite community
consisting of about 160 families.

Classified as low income
(courtesy rural housing authority)
those whose finances pinched
can breathe a sigh of relief
at affordable rent
and if gifted with housing choice voucher
formerly known as section 8 -
the Housing Act of 1937,
often called Section 8,
as repeatedly amended,
authorizes the payment
of rental housing assistance
to private landlords on behalf
of low-income households
in the United States)
can rest assured said voucher accepted.

In 2007, Democrats took control
of the borough council for the first time
in the borough's history,
nevertheless Republicans
joust kick/jump start opponents to unseat:
Elderly population who reside on premises
each own a story to tell, who if prompted
would possibly eagerly respond
talking about a simpler way of life
such as yours truly,
who attended Henry Kline Boyer Elementary
each of the six grades
yours truly did nearly repeat
(one classroom per grade learning facility)
long since obsolete:
all manner of therapy animals accepted
but best to get permission
(with then property manager
Lisa Varley Wacker -
cause this blurb written about two years ago)
to house unusual pet such as lorikeet
for those unlearned folks said creature
a colorful and vibrant species of parrot
known for its distinctive beak
and tongue adaptations
that allow it to feed on pollen
and nectar from flowers:
Most residents sequestered
in their respective unit,
thus I infrequently witness
exhibit behavior hashtagged as indiscreet
with a total unit size of 43,575 Square Feet,
whereby a thin layer
of carpeting covers concrete
witnessing unsteady tenant
taking a tumble and bruises
their body doth accrete.

delivered me back in the dark shadows
and the underbelly of the web,
where impossible mission
to differentiate the outer limits
cast by edge of night
essentially rendering a twilight zone
where obscured criminal activity
clear as day in retrospect,
versus earlier this month
when yours truly gung **
obediently got a crash course
in cryptocurrency and electronic *******
blindsided to the Potemkin Village,
who never heeded the red flags
now forced me to revisit
nightmare scenario of pennilessness,
whereby an absentee vote
of no confidence in self awareness
guaranteed enthrallment back
to burglarious, nefarious, usurious loan sharks
ever since the latter part of June 2023,
when pseudonymous Harvey Specter
indelibly etched monetary fiasco
now marking
the second anniversary of debacle
present racket instigated
courtesy Donald Koons,
who steered gullible guy
into a worse fate than death.

Utter brainless nincompoop
in this poem heretofore addressing
I wanna be forever free
and clear from mortal anguish,
and need more than a blessing -
I need a miracle worker
or billionaire philanthropist after confessing
behavior of naïveté causing depressing
wretched state of mind
self incriminating admission expressing
emptying out checking
and savings accounts
not by my choosing
but the deviltry of Robin hood
and his merry band of outlaws
which include Little John,
Friar Tuck, Will Scarlet,
and Much the Miller's Son.

The importance of money
or lack thereof smarts,
especially when series
of unfortunate events
even Lemony Snicket,
would be flabbergasted
at such blatant and flagrant stupidity
exhibited courtesy yours truly.

Herr dummkopf did not function
with one iota of his brain
case in point entire
financial cushion he did drain
late June two thousand and twenty three,
where anonymous, barbarous, egregious,
ferocious, iniquitous jerks
re: cyber crooks enriched their coffers
in previous poems I did explain,
how yours truly got sucker punched
to surrender substantial capital
subsequently severe depression
washed over me like floodplain
after a major hurricane,
thus another shout out,
though I feel quite insane
to drum up buffer (in) zone
excedrin also sought
to bring temporary relief
far fetched likelihood in dough main
despite moon shot
to witness philanthropic boost,
I keep praying Meg Found
will pull thru and ordain
analogous to pinwheeling plane
(disaster from fraudster frazzled father)
one ordinarily perspicacious primate
who two years later still experiences
financially hardship that doth strain
and punctuated psyche
with moon efficient crater
whose sense of orientation
analogous to a spinning weathervane.

please oh lord brace and fix me with monetary salvation

After umpteen times being swindled
reducing me to abject poverty
psyche of mine
broke into a bajillion little pieces
much like Humpty Dumpty
grim outlook spells
forlorn and foregone conclusion,
thus I beseech
all knowing omniscient creator
to rescue me
from the pitfalls of eternal damnation,
where pendulum wildly swings
in one direction of doom
sabotaging sanity and solvency
wreaking havoc analogous
to kamikaze missionaries
intent on suicide missions
blasting dystopian fiery hellhole
loosing tenuous grip upon
ramparts of mental stability
maligning foolhardy behavior
guaranteeing surefire wreckage
abominable demons hellbent
to annihilate with brutal devastation
cents and sensibility
blitzkrieg makes mincemeat
feast for grim reaper
cue apropos soundtrack
where grateful dead
cavort with calamity, jollity
and rapacity of a Robinhood run amuck
robbing the poor
to enrich the gluttonous plutocrats
impossible mission to seize the day
when nary a handy dandy blue's clue extant
resigning yours truly
to live in a bleak house
imprisoning prodigal son
witnessing him spinning out
the days of his life as the world turns
reviling himself while flagellating
suppressing anguished cries of tortured soul
accepting deserved punishment
sentenced to ****** solitude
where cri de coeur falls on deaf ears
after he repeatedly though unwittingly
committed fraud against himself
depleting meager monetary resources
leaving bone dry balance
whereby corpse dangles lifelessly
come take a swing at body electric
left to hang for all posterity
as grim example
against being blindly inquisitive
indiscriminately clicking
arbitrary tabs on cellphone
and adversely exploiting
deliverance from the poor house
abandoned by the wife
for countless transgressions
less so of amorous infidelity
(although that too a factor
in meted out comeuppance)
alone in an emotional wilderness
he whiles away pitiful existence
growing old and feeble minded
housed within unit b44
not longer grooving to bliss
merely marking time
upon grime encrusted floor
a multipurpose space
doubling up as sleeping quarters
and evacuation of ****** waste
no longer caring
about keeping up appearances
cause nobody cares to visit
once upon a time fool on the hill
long forgotten from messengers of hope
thus consigned to an anonymous death
subsequently cremated
with ashes scattered to the four winds.

(plus cutlery, pots pans, et cetera) in the kitchenette sink.

She started what would immediately become
a first and last generation tradition
(the spouse as washer woman
and scullery maid)
soon after we moved here
eight years ago come July 1st, 2025.

I trumpet her pioneer spirit
to apply elbow grease
(to tackle tough
heavily stained articles of clothing
(after her weary cowboy husband
comes back home on the range
after a hot day rustling cattle)
think underwear of mine -
whereat even bleach
falls short of removing
stubborn noticeable discoloration)
such gusto similarly applied
to glassware or cookware caked
with crusty hardened food.

After washing wearable goods,
she squeezes the excess water
from saturated item(s)
and drapes still moderately wet garment
over drying racks
despite the availability
of clothes washers and dryers
here on the premises
of Highland Manor Apartments.

Though she continues to threaten
with colorful epithets
never to wash my clothes ever again,
her words ring hollow
when some time elapses
and... guess what?
yepper, her hands slide down
into the behavioral sink
and I make sure
to acknowledge gratitude,
yet admit to falling short
of filling in the blank
(with a select response),
when she asks me
what will I give her in return.

Earlier in our
almost thirty year marriage,
we (I more so than the wife)
used to be conditional
and if asked a favor,
the immediate response
from yours truly (me)
just so happened to be
what do I get in return?

That Pavlovian feedback loop
occurred way before
my libido took a kamikaze dive,
into a suicide mission
a strong suspicion arises
(but I dare not utter
a premature *******)
videlicet that being adverse effects
linkedin with one or more
of the nine prescription medications
ingested for mental health issues
such as anxiety, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
could be the only logical explanation,
and interestingly enough,
I breathe a sigh of relief
cuz all to often ****** fantasies
ofttimes filled every waking
and sleeping hour of mine.

the first time this summer,
when martyrdom got chucked aside for cold comfort.

How heavenly the climate controlled apartment
unit b44 felt and **** the torpedoes
(originated from a quote
attributed to Admiral David Farragut
during the Battle of Mobile Bay
in the American Civil War)
about being the poster child for Peco.

Sensitivity to global warming
increased intolerance against
hazy hot and humid weather
adversely affecting me
the older I get,
thus body electric of mine
caving into temptation
to set the digital dial
at a brisk sixty five degrees
quickly delivering relief
amenable to me a married
nonestablishmentarian, sexagenarian,
and Unitarian baby boomer,
who readily attests to being
a human who doubles up
as a bipedal hominid creature,
who relishes drinking
in the cool purified respite.

As a bouncing baby, introspective boy,
pensive prepubescent, tumultuous teen
and emerging adult,
I grew up in the shadow of “Glen Elm”
the purported summer home
of one Mister Leiper,
(maybe an unsuspecting reader
linkedin to his genealogical family tree,
which tidbit would appease
the curiosity of yours truly)
built during the early nineteen hundreds
and lacked air conditioning
namely because such amenity
did not exist
although modern air conditioning
got invented in 1902 by Willis Carrier,
who developed a system
to control temperature and humidity
at a printing plant in Brooklyn, New York.

The childhood home
at 324 Level Road,
Collegeville, Pennsylvania
additionally lacked proper insulation,
and a furnace in the basement
piped heated throughout the house
from a storage tank to the burner
using a fuel pump,
a typical part of the burner assembly,
whereat said pump
draws the oil and pressurizes it
before sending it to the burner nozzle
where it is ignited to generate heat.

Many occasions found mother
turning down the thermostat
to cut costs cause she grew up
dirt poor in Coney Island, New York
and her psyche got indelibly impressed
with scrimping and saving
even at the inconvenience
of myself and siblings;
but years later (after mom passed away)
father purchased a window unit
(perhaps getting a discount
with his General Electric association)
just for the kitchen.

I try to abide
by self imposed energy efficient standards
(ever mindful of the first law of thermodynamics
also known as the law of conservation of energy,
states that energy
cannot be created or destroyed,
but it can be transformed
from one form to another)
not just when sequestering myself
within where I reside
(and if negligent,
the wife quickly reminds me
in her screechy voice
of a light left on
or the bathroom door left ajar
if activating the central air
echoing a similar refrain
how mother did likewise),
but also when mapping out a strategy
when driving aiming to conserve fuel
by consolidating going on fool's errands
to minimize unnecessarily
spinning wheels frivolously.

since originally being crafted
approximately half dozen
***** deeds done dirt cheap years ago...

Abound and lurk
within every nook and cranny
analogous to some annoying pest
harmless though one reside here,
when off his meds goes berserk
here at Highland Manor Apartments.

They ****** and snitch packages -
meant for other than themselves -
think Grinch who stole Christmas
plus snoop, i.e. eavesdrop
big Dumbo ears as listening devices
(batteries not required)
or serve as rumor mongers
to don self importance
and trumpet "FAKE NEWS."

We (yours truly and his misses)
dwelled at aforementioned residence
July first 2025 will be eight years,
and no sooner did both of us set foot
on premises than hearsay
immediately promulgated
(metaphorically swirled about our heads),
and passed like greased lightning
thru the robust grapevine
purportedly wife of mine
brought in live snakes.

Oddly and interestingly enough though,
I never actually never heard nor saw
a fellow resident
talk (or whisper in hushed tones)
about me outright.

Rather than badmouth other feisty folks,
which leaves unpleasant virtual
aftertaste described as phooey zook,
thus comeuppance to reprobate recipients
I activate viz cluck
king silly reasonable rhyme,
(so keeps head up
for urbane adverse city slicker
you better watch out

(...better not shout...) just duck
and run for cover cuz poet took
effluvia enroute spouted by word huck
stir, he avoids naming
(chatterboxes whose lives
so devoid of meaning,
they figuratively kickstart tittle-tattle),
who vocally ramp up
some juicy tidbit with any luck

taking page from former president playbook
letting their lips uncontrollably run a-muck
totally oblivious to credibility factor
buzzfeed initial kernel of truth and truck
outrageous zingers suitable for National Enquirer,
tragicomical, cuz mistruths
courtesy tenants exhibit chutzpah to pluck
farfetched outright lies and innuendos

rolling of tongues of then occupants such as:
"Bible Thumper/Holy Roller,"
"Bingo/ Phat Cathy,""Crooked Old Man,"
"Curvy Girl/Thunder Thighs," "Frumpty Dumpty
"Mush/Smash Mouth, "Snaggletooth,"
"The Bodyguard," "The Fossil," "The Schvartze,"
"Winkle," and last but not leased "Zha Zha”.

Give me fruit flies, mice
and/or roaches any day,
or give me death!