(cuz ma life iz such a drag...
this toke kin “FAKE” hemp  
pyre aye roll out to you dear reader).

As a double jointed mathematical abbot
and amateur chemist
   specializing in cannabinoids
   my favorite delta-9-tetra
   hydrocannabinol (THC),

   isolated and synthesized in 1964
weeding thru bathroom rag
   while athwart the potty
   i.e. measuring adequate perforated
   square roto root er, sans
   regular toilet tissue paper
   prior to completing important

   private business matter
   on the sacred porcelain chamber pot
Mary Jane made a token appearance,
   and boy she looked smoke kin hot
asking if I wanna marry (Jane) her attired
   in drag at a joint where Billy Bong  

   banged on by the hands of
   a phenomenal drummer
   taut as a hemp knot
with music in his blood
   while blowing  fractal rings – holy Scott
the immediate utterance,

   and rather creative bon mot
found me stock still like stone wall Jackson,
   who unfortunately got deprived a hit,
   nonetheless got shot
unwittingly by his own (confederate troops),
   whose demise an awful blot

per southern cause during
   the Civil War and if anachronism
   to receive medicinal aide available
   instead of primitive treatment he got
(as well other wounded soldiers
   of misfortune on the battlefield),

   whose faith the any almighty power
   could do little to save their roach invested lot
yet availing my imagination
   to twist time like that Mobius strip
mortally wounded rebels and Yankees
   free from facing death on a cot
might be successful hemp

   entrepreneurs cultivating a little spot
of land hemp would outstrip cotton
   as king as export to trot
orange you glad I avoided
   the analogy with a kumquat?
(strike while the iron's hot,
else...up prize cold hard steel Goldfinger
rewind: the following case in point).

Believe me you (stranger out there
along the information super highway),
perhaps feeling comfortably numb,
which I (personally experiencing futility)

vainly searching for Nirvana) attest
to be more appealing that flounder
(like a Phish out of roe jeers waters),
this Pink Floyd wannabe (actually live

ving an absurd existence as an A1 Deep Purple
People eater among a Band of Bitches)
oft times doth Abandon All Hope, when
this close (a hare's breath - imagined

by thumb and index finger nearly touching)
pinching that elusive Golden Silence),
when in the throes (up raised hands
signifying Abhorrent success) hopelessly

striving to summon forth a measly poetic
creation only to Rage Against The Machine
(Ablaze In Hatred) horridly glomming fruit
less endeavor, (a far cry approximating A

Blue Ocean Dream) extremely at wits end tide
feeling the painful impact re: classic mind
paralysis vis a vis Abnormyndeffect (whereat
most diagnoses an Abomination at best,

(strongly resembling, and easily mistaken
for gingerly feigning good knight two step
A BoogieWit da Hoodie), thus mental health
specialists advocate best ditch writer's block

as an Aborted effort gone south (by About a Mile),
yea...Just Above The Golden State (The Ruins),
when...with a whoosh A Canticle for Leibowitz
manifests and Jethro Tull appears waving a

magic wand while issuing Abracadabra birthing
from out The Breach of Silence inspiration met
with immediate backlogged literary juices, and
sudden Abrogation viz A Broken Silence, where

what appeared as a budding damn fantastically
heralded breakout New York Times best seller
collapses into a Uriah Heap of absentmindedness
twisting within psychic wind Abysmal Grief pain

full Acceptance of Absolute Zero literary talent
with strong considerations for an Accidental
Suicide Usher red via shocking the body electric
with maximum AC/DC self selected Act of Violence

deadening this once Acute Mind eve vent chilly Beck
conning Adam and the Ants, the Addiction Crew, and
most Petty full Heartbreaker i.e. A Death in the Family
unexpectedly engendering A Different Breed of Killers

who (Like the House of The Rising Sun nemesis),
essentially a Phoenix villa fied Gorgon Twisted Sister
faintly resembling a cross between Golgotha, Adolescents,
and Adonis, when...Who should appear A Dozen Furies

hence fomenting A Dream Too Late, Adultery admonished
by an Adult Mom with a doctorate in Advanced Chemistry,
and physiology of A Few Good Men inexplicably trans
forming into A Flock of Seagulls After Dusk matter of

fact After Forever leaving an Afterglow Against Time,
a veritable Air Supply ample enough to solve every
Algebra problem posed by Alice Cooper easy enough
to solve by average Alleycats, Stray Cats and Also Eden.

I hope you enjoyed Altered Images (ideally while in an
Altered State) Among the Oak and Ash during A Month
of Somedays assigning Amorphous Androgynous (A Pale
Horse Named Death) naysaying A Positive Life!
(a stout rendition of Captain Oh Captain)

Mine eyes espy the glory per the ending
of another work day beckon Bailys Irish Creme
with Absolut certainty that Fireball named Brandy
the Patron Crown Royal abets dream
quest proof positive to expunge stressful Boss
distilling this cooked Grey Goose a gleam
with nary a clue how my ceaseless toiling efforts
play within the lager corporation scheme
assigning exemplary skills and talents within
what appears to be a trumped up losing team.

No exit out this grueling twenty first century rat trap
whereby Scotch chief en gin that air
except to drawn displeasure and wallow in sorrows
downing Booze or house brand beer
despite  drunken state erodes axons and synapses
snap like chattering teeth of broken gear
quickly cause tenuous grasp on queasy reality,
sanity, and tenacity rent asunder and tear.

Now that work day done at long last, not a moment
to tally date with Jack Daniels to delay
this linkedin the conga line wants to wash away
sounds of barked orders Rum bling – may
king me insides writhing with anger as if type cast
in diabolical formidable, horrible play
whereby each active scene increases assistance
for Johnny Walker to glide and sashay.

Argh, how those last remaining minutes to escape
hubbub tick away at the pace of a snail
to these myopic eyes, which suspect manager
surreptitiously turns back clock hands male
lush hiss lee deliberately toys with sanity, thus
seek counsel from Jimmy Beam without fail
when super tramp ping head honcho will cease
cheap trick renouncing cruel act with ale.

Without sh malt s, Hops, skips and jumps
inebriation welcomes me by rendering taps
receding thoughts of being bound, cramped,  
and emulsified in dark cubicle Schnapps
as if invisible taut cord tears into virtual tatters
and this life of Wry lee loosed like flaps
from shredded material trailing a tail that
rivals tales of Aesop's.

That  ambler liquid of the gods soothes palate
and tongue helps a  comfortably numb
feeling to settles within thine body electric
dulling the senses with heavy eye lids plum
met to close shut tight riding the wave of ecstasy,
reflecting about dad and late mum
though come the morrow, a hang over with
sensation akin to Gunter Grass loud internal tin drum.

Upon rising sober with total amnesia sans
pandering as a buffoon
realizing fallacious gimcrackery while ensconced
in fermented cocoon
an email fried off from the top dog quickly
reminded yours truly how I did goon
off the rails, perhaps cuz of living within
a trackless caboose sized wife named June.
I. e., this unfortunate
     mere erred reflection,
     aye re: zine
     (pronounced Syne),
     cuz you Matthew Scott Harris
act like an old curmudgeon,
     does nothing but whine...

     this one dimensional mere silver,
copper film and multi layered shine
of waterproof paint
     on back surface doth deign
as merely superficial float glass fine
visualization cannot detach itself
     (analogous to a Siamese
     twin engine eared ensign)

sullying for all the
     world wide web to see mine
capricious, facetious,
     and inglorious rotten chine
(vis a vis via,
     sexually seedy, Nein
dynamic, salaciously scabrous,
     spicily shamelessly pine

ning sultry rhyme
     (without reason) attempting
     to wax eloquent as nonpareil poetry
     by futilely try'n
to make a silk purse out of swine
(actually a sow's ear), meanwhile dine
'n high and mighty trump
     petting haughtiness hoping to line

up ducks in a row at mine
(your poor reflection), hmm...wondering
     mebbe I can latch unto a stein
way praying for some means
     to become divine
very aware that
     no mirrored reflection can exist
from a corporeal entity,
     who cannot ever hurt or kill me,

     but,...yeah go ahead,
     and take a fist
also aware nothing can undo
     that banal, carnal, and offal dreck,
     which materiel could be ideal grist
for erotica such as Hustler,
     and/or Penthouse, where prurient
     Lady Chatterley's naked lunch evocations
     conjured behind wordy myst.
As if in a decades long
     somnambulant trance
     for majority of years
     I finally awoke,
three score minus
     one orbitz tracked 'round el sol
     by this human drone,
a custom made incognito

     stitched while in utero
     yeah... my birthday suit mask
     disguised this bloke
yet plainly visible, aye donned
     a permanent cloak
always fitted me skin
     tight easily permitting
     ingress and egress okey doak

majority of mein kempf
     ambivalent about (no...no...no...
     despised) self as
     apathetic behavior did evoke,
yet slip out from
     under the Harris tweed,
     Scottish door Matt,
     parental tender caring folk

now, such indifference,
     whether dead or alive,
     tummy this thinking haint write
especially nearing quotidian,
     the terminus twilight
     of existential parabola
     fifty nine submucous cleft palate
     nasal note more'n slight

     chalked up to biochemically, right
     hermetically, and neurologically quite,
though not profoundly disabled,
     a riddled quirky
     psycho-social plight,
(cultivating an unhealthy
     absent self esteem inferior complex)
     I exhibited half

     hearted feeble feints
     to muster willpower morning till night
oft times nobody home,
     and nary boot faint light
doth shine on me
     (feeling comfortably numb),
     a puny white knight er
     rather pawn on chess

     board of life with 20/20 insight
while standing at a paltry
     just shy of seventy
     two inches in height
shortchanging latitudinal longitudinal
     maximum parameters to attain
but more critically, detrimentally,
     emotionally constitutes current bane

analogous to Atlas
     hold the world
     did more than force him to crane
his neck, but imposed
     a global estuarial drain
as all the seven seas underwent
     gravitational pull that's
     the best aye can explain

oh...but such fiction a mythological sling
shot across the bow civilization
     the metaphorical resonance
     pertains to me, and doth ring
real asper millstone over bearing
worth repeating here,
no matter mentioned in previous poems
     bitterness of mine despairingly cathartically airing.
(revamped, retooled, and reviewed for the mad council).

Admiration and kudos to quick as
greased lightening witted language
mongers gifted with means to deflect,
stave off, or thwart venemous, sacri
legious, pompous,et cetera lethal
impacts delivered chiefly to ass
ass in ate character, degrade, ex
Cory ate, where deliberate hefty
insult bruited viz zit head via bit
ting acrimonious gloating by some

trumpet ting twelfth knight, Mar-a-
Lago dwelling, Don Juan, Cassa
nova interloper ideally to be met
and taken rite off guard with cutting,
fitting, and incriminating scythe leant
taste of bitter pill as bad medicine
measure for measure, which earns
repartee deliverer at the least (cut
ting to, the quick principled litter
a chore thieving magpie klepto

maniac maven anyway) raising
the bar, per how can eye whip up
a creative reply to ward psychic
bruises as would be confirmed
by an x-ray evidencing sharp black
Amy Lloyd Barbs lobbed my way.  
Plight reiterated and described again re
phrased as mine good humor hum
dinger mew zing ct-scan reveals
(outsize funny bone) pinpointing

tiny thesaurus sim card firmly
permanently embedded, where temple
(my Mansfield) binds as the Great
Chaim Yonkle yiddish alt pun stir Perry
Como crooning se yammo, a friendly maxi
mum exchange (minus jet lag) oye vay,
boot how novel, if I could wit
ness (or personally experience) quick
lightening rod quips would come to me
rescue (supercalifragilisticexpialidocious),

but generally, honestly and indubitably,
this flustering rhymster, who with bluster
brownian movement attests and accepts
slow moving cogs and wheels of his
aging noggin normally, notoriously
and nominally NEVER nsync with
nearly top notch national scrabbling
Facebooked bountiful brigands, this
will never happen to utter trail blaze
zing, nail biting, and hair raising awe

some adage, badinage, and/or  persiflage
more likely than not, mum hindlacks
proper cerebral mechanism to dream,
and get linkedin exactly at  prime time.
An absolute beauty of a doozy, flapping
like a floozy, hypothetically intimated be
totally tubularly groovy, man and find
me a bit woozy with flickr ring shutterfly
twittering wii zing hacking, joyous, and
kindling euphoria asthma sign us would

go thru roof of mouth boot opportunities
foregone to daydreaming after serious
lapse of time, yet speculatively, and in
sum re: prime tete a tete would spring up
to parry, defang, and blunt puncture of
mine  psyche (imaginatively zinging red
zinger, would be one for the record books),
sans right on cue, rapier jabbing (yet art
fully crafted), an unusually timely resip
rick cal sparring touché (leading com

petition, by my itty, bitty ditty), witty
award winning smart riposte would a
rise supremely after incidents arose from
circumstance, yet twin next opportunity
passes, the critical moment will slip,
away suspecting sanctimonious sham
rock leprachaun spiritedly skewered
lucky charms finding me wishing the
means existed to conjure an instant replay
all to often when recipient of unkind word,
taken aback sans ideal return synaptic salvo.
Though reading horror stories (macabre),
     an only every now and again
     genre crazy wave
washing over me like
     a killer tsunami,
     (subsequently fueling
     desperation) to save
thine scrawny arse,

     (a derriere laughing stock,
     and hence cheeky of me to rave),
those rare occasions satiated, when
     hung over insomnia heavily bulging,
     rheumy myopic blood shot eyes
     nonetheless lock into
     critical opening sentence determining,
     whether adroit kingly author

     nimbly setting the stage and pave
ving what thenceforth, pro
     misses tubby a cell out ace
in the hole captive audience
     (me, this apt pupil), doth brace
himself (by all counts once
     a bad little kid) deserving, well...now...
just a bag of bones,

     who fiendishly cackles
     when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like),
whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous
     possessive gnarly hand
     forcibly grabs my attention
     presaging and frightening
     yours truly (juiced in case
ye did not know),

     where within the bazaar
     of bad dreams epic,
     which seems like forever,
     when I finally erase
and exorcise the bogeyman who,
     masterfully, immediately,
     dramatically got woven
     lady chattery teeth and all

     withering wicked warp and woof
     establishing (proof positive),
     an excellently crafted
    Chiral Mad heavily shades
     of night are falling
     gussying haunting place,
where the color of evil permeates
     every cerebral space
with darkness, said

     sub rosa prime evil punctuates
     the mind this dream catcher,
     whence after four past midnight
the reaper's image appears
sending adrenaline rush,
     viz flight or fight blind

did, when firestarter alarm didst grind
passage of time manifesting dark forces
     blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined
     up battleground formation
     from the borderlands of my mind
this even before turning
     the first page where the eyes
     of drag'n my afterlife shined!
Next page