No matter Tuesday, November 5, 2024
still one hundred and eight days away,
(thank you Julian Date Calendar -
FOR LEAP YEARS ONLY),
I believe a foregone conclusion
that Donald Trump will win
based on the pathetic debate performance
between Joseph Robinette Biden Junior,
and Donald John Trump
in tandem with the stellar performance
of the latter at the Republican National Convention,
which appeared to surpass great expectations,
a gut reaction, cuz I could not stomach watching
the main star and near future dictator.

I may view some or all of
The Democratic Convention
scheduled to be held August 19 to 22, 2024,
at the United Center in Chicago, Illinois,
and by tradition, because the Democratic Party
currently holds the White House,
said convention will be conducted
after the 2024 Republican National Convention,
which was held from July 15 to 18, 2024.
Nevertheless, yours truly
will not betray his political party loyalty
to cast his vote for the former named candidate
and simultaneously brace himself emotionally
drafting gofundme site with catchy slogan
and image showing tin cup hand
for sudden homelessness
of myself and the missus,
the result of social security disability,
AETNA ADVANTRA MEDICARE,
and Medicaid being axed, gutted, slashed, et cetera
as well as many other socially progressive programs
unless this gassy, generic, gifted, and goofy guy
experiences an unexpected windfall.

Actually... another alternative exists
videre licet despite the admission,
I don't really feel ready to die,
and the spouse would **** me
if she finds out one bumbling,
doodling, fiddling, hemming
and hawing, jump/kick starting wordsmith
would dare leave, whereby
she would lack
her figurative rock of Gibraltar.

The idea to emigrate to Canada,
or just drive until reaching north
of the border dividing line much
more appealing, but no family or
friends linkedin to my network,
nor, cuz this solitudinarian can
call on nobody except an elder
sister living in Woodbury, New
Jersey, or a younger sibling (a
veritable globe trotter), she and
her husband call Bend, Oregon
their mostly permanent residence.

Yeah, I attest to be all talk and no action
envisioning myself made of stouter stuff
with the help of powder milk biscuits,
which gave me the courage
to acquire superhuman powers
which allows, enables, and provide
a guise to bedazzle readers
with my brilliance.

No other particular marketable skill can I avail
long story short mental health issues sabotaged
healthy development of body, mind, and spirit
evinced with difficulty similarly as challenging
as blind double amputee person learning Braille
when segueing from childhood's end to adolescence
experiencing puberty found me
fraught with emotional travail
vivid remembrance of things past

taking piano lessons
at the house Missus Eva Youngblood,
where her daughter Barbara taught
courtesy John Thompson's
Modern Course for the Piano -
numerous lesson books
helped yours truly learn
how to tickle the ivory keys
at some point, I succumbed
to severe grievous state
collapsed in a heap
on the floor and softly wailed
lamentably plaintively sobbing
pausing between weeping
to ******* “I cannot live any more,”
or some such sentiment.

Ted Goldberg, a psychiatrist
at Collegeville Counseling
did his level best to draw out
responses from a little boy
who remained mute,
and said degreed professional resorted
to play one or more popular board games
which choice of activity
elicited non verbal reaction,
and needless to say this approach
slowly but surely gradually
found with the aid of melirill -
(thioridazine HCl) an anti-psychotic medication
in the phenothiazine class
used to treat psychotic disorders
such as schizophrenia and elavil -
medication used to treat depression.
Amitriptyline belongs to a class
of drugs known as tricyclic antidepressants.

Both prescription medications eventually
bore figurative fruit,
and coaxed my tongue to wag.

Anorexia nervosa got nipped in the bud
before I literally starved to death,
totally undermining mental, physical,
and spiritual well being
presenting impossible mission
for this then seventh grade student
assigned to section 7B1
(if memory serves me correctly)
to assimilate lecture material,
thus scoring the lowest marks
with flying colors
(such as black, blue, and red),
and getting promoted

by the skin of my teeth,
with mine ancient history
adding up to being
a deplorable basket case
thru the remaining years I attended
Methacton Junior/Senior High School
actually at some arbitrary petticoat juncture
I gave up exerting one iota of intelligence
and adopted apathy, and honestly failed
at receiving an education,
cuz yours truly occupied a desk,
but never uttered a peep,
thus succeeded (as inscribed
on my curriculum vitae)
Matthew Scott Harris
did an exemplary job
taking up space and time.

The twelfth anniversary
remembered by those
caught in the cross hairs
unsuspecting lives forever altered,
a dozen people mercilessly mortally wounded
unwittingly, unfairly contributing
to morbid gun violence statistics.

Pardon me for self plagiarism,
(and posting a near identical poem
only a scant small number of months ago,
but brainstorming for a writing idea
I thought to query Google
and ask about world events for July 20th
and much to my dismay
apprised about a shooting tragedy,
which happened a dozen years ago today.

2012 Aurora, Colorado shooting:
Twas a dark knight whence
there came a pawn the hushed
crowded movie house,
a phantom of horror sprung out
of the rookery that wrought deadly havoc
renting asunder innocent audience members
anticipating batman annihilate evil
within manichean eternal duel
extant within imaginary world
of gotham portrayed on the silver screen
when out of the black curtained theater
tear gas canisters got hurled pell mell
accompanied by a fusillade
of heavy machine gunfire
sheering many lives
many in the prime ascent
sans parabola of adulthood
the youngest, a then six-year-old girl
transformed into an ashen colored corpse,
which death yet revealed
(at the time of said shooting spree)
to her young mother
critically wounded,
and clamoring for said daughter
while teetering on the brink of mortality
oblivious to stricken offspring
while family, friends, relatives
and anonymous prayers
and this heartfelt genuine communiqué
from me – a self styled nonestablishmentarian
gung-** to invoke a mandate
that high powered firearms
must be much less accessible
i.e. bulletproof laws
need implementation pronto
so inhabitants of these United States
do not fear for their lives
nor feel akin to a potential prey
sighted in the crosshairs
wantonly gunned down
from some grinning joker
slaking glee from mass killing
as to appease unquenchable thirst
to avenge some psychotic
nemesis gloating to slay
with a vengeance and contrived vendetta
promulgating pandemonium
and grisly ****** aftermath
yet despite such horrific heinous atrocity
bravery and sacrifice witnessed and extolled
from heroic instinctual motive
to offer themselves as human shield
so that carnage less devastating
than toll on madman’***** list
now in solitary confinement
and even if executed
would be a pyrrhic salve
to those forever deprived of loved ones
Burning with an eternal sorrow no matter
Generosity of cyber sympathizers
across World Wide Web
Plus the president of these United States
Reach out showering kindness
analogous to Borealis raiment!

and let the youngbloods take the reins
infusing our promised land with hope.

You done good for America,
serving as laudatory President
from 2020 to the present
Vice President from 2009 to 2017,
and in the United States Senate
from 1973 until 2009.

The nation teeters on the brink of chaos
legions of legendary nasty
and not so shortish belligerent brutes
aping capering, galloping,
hollering on their figurative high horses
egging, fomenting, instigating,
jimmying, kick/jumpstarting, kindling tinder
activating spark to explode in a reign of terror
decking the hallowed halls with blitzkrieg
videre licet philanthropic donations

courtesy gazillion billionaires
from Wall Street to Silicon Valley
trumpeting their Republican choice
cymbal eyes zing, drumming,
fluting with sax and violins,
whether former president number forty five
loses or clinches what promises
to be a hotly contested election
Tuesday, November 5, 2024
marking the end of the world as we know.

Though no bleeding heart liberal
yours truly vouchsafes
being die hard landlubber
ardently embracing social progressivism
chalked up to a Unitarian upbringing
and parents who would not tolerate
a conservative proponent
of any right wing controversial issues -
just kidding, but in retrospect

a heavily skewed leftist tack
did not disallow opportunities
to spar with intelligent repartee
particularly with father -
Boyce Brandon Harris,
a strongly (read dominantly) opinionated
Democrat, whose willfully voiced notions
set the precedent concerning
what side of an issue would be acceptable.

He passed away October 7th 2020
and would be appalled at current political events
besetting the United States of America
and may even possibly take pen to paper
to sketch an intelligent blurb, drawing,
funny highly jaded literary novelty,
applauding your storied achievements.

Quite frightening the strong lurch toward autocracy,
great probability linkedin to ruthless demagogue,
a machiavellian agent provocateur
one foo fighting beastie boy barbarian, and totalitarian
dead set to eradicate closest approximation
of egalitarian and humanitarian realization
witnessed with starts and fits of enlightenment
and inexcusable decimation,
humiliation, liquidation, and pacification
of peoples dissimilar to ancestors,

who came to Turtle Island
(a name for Earth or North America,
used by some American Indigenous peoples,
as well as by some Indigenous rights activists)
from northern Europe, especially England,
and who were formerly considered
to have a lot of power and influence
nevertheless wrought a continent
associated with the land of the free,
and the home of the brave

serving as a beacon for possibility of lofty ideals
to attain salutary manifestation within the realm
spanning from the mountains to the prairies
to the oceans white with foam
encompassing diverse topography
from sea to shining sea
spurred courtesy ignominious manifest destiny
nevertheless anchored by
Constitution of the United States
a cherished living and breathing document.

In April 2023, the Heritage Foundation
published the 920-page Mandate,
written by hundreds of conservatives,
most prominently former Trump administration officials.

After I read excerpts of Project 2025,
courtesy news worthy publications
such as Mother Jones, The Nation,
The Week, and TIME Magazine
my intimation jump/kick started
to make a general conclusion
that said tome of a door stopper
cast dark foreboding shadows
hinting the outer limits
of many important legislative milestones

promulgated for the benefit of society,
especially post American Civil War
granted then revolutionary smart
transformations from isolationist
essentially incorporating xenophobia into  
broad-mindedness suddenly
on the figurative chopping
if former president Trump  
garners the majority of votes,
whereby he would set in motion

looming monstrous nightmare outlined
in above titled manifesto
would spell gloom and doom
not only across the contiguous United States,
plus Alaska, but affect
western civilization in general
resurrecting the ghost of despotism
eviscerating the guts of the unique experiment
in government courtesy founding fathers
(though no doubt significant women

played an important role
helping to bring into fruition
mandates and female dates
resulting in our raison d'être
to pursue vocations to allow, enable, and provide
free market enterprise an economy
where the market determines prices,
products, and services rather than the government.
Free enterprise focuses on the private sector,
private investment, private risk taking,
private innovation, etc.

Laissez faire represents the other side of the coin,
the absence of government interference
in the private sector, especially in matters
of trade-policy (the historical origin of the term).

sizzles Delaware Valley today July 16th, 2024

Said geographical area composed of counties
located in Southeastern Pennsylvania,
South Jersey, Delaware, and
Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Sweltering temperatures
figuratively grip human zoo
bipedal hominids (yours truly,
an olive - garden variety simian)
seek much sought after shade
under whirled wide webbed yew
offering protection from the sheltering sky,  
which heavenly reflection within
shining sea witnesses wahoo,
whereat fisherman angling
to encompass vantage point to view

how flora and fauna cook née stew
scorched wildlife
postpone impossible mission
to search and rescue
despite bucket brigade lined in a queue
to stanch imminent wildfires
sparked by lightning striking
dry as kindling tinder
linkedin with El Niño and climate change
omnipresent phenomenon offered preview

Weather records
(one for the books) chart mercury
rising hot enough to melt tar,
which indicates global warming
quite evident I fear,
what with mean temperatures
from January – July 2024 (thus far)
noticeably above norm for this time of year
prognosticators foretell forecasts
per this third planet from the star,
which inhabitants upon Mother Earth
burden of responsibility must bear

billions of people wanton pollutants
ratchet up barometric millibar
dialing up greenhouse effect,
which serious scenario scientists fear
correlation from profligate offal ways
traced from freed genie in the jar,
no longer stretch of imagination
affects mankind did sear
since day of reckoning,
whence Prometheus set stage for war
pitting mankind against Gaia
urgent messages we fail to hear.

Dystopian forecast impossible mission to avoid
since doomsday thoughts pervade consciousness
after perusing newsworthy information
globe trotting correspondents riskily employed
imperiling their life and limb to acquire
truthful natural and/or human interest stories
occurring across all four corners of oblate spheroid,
i.e. world wide web,
whereby Earth situated within nebulous void.

I try mine darndest to maintain optimistic aire
all the while gleaning apocalyptic intimations
courtesy human engineered phenomenon
all the more rhyme and reason to beware
**** sapiens on brink of armageddon,
especially when trustworthy cognoscere
painstakingly document their research
and without lacking hesitation declare

drastic paradigm shift away
from dependence on nuclear
energy and fossil fuels everywhere
else climate change could bitta bing
bitta bang hasten global warming,
where wicked watery wasteland
wreaks bleak soggy frontier
backed by popular demand
majority trumpets grandpoobear
for president, he who donned hair
actually he got bewigged courtesy fake
orange toupee, which got blown away
while he hoisted himself
with his own petard.

Imagine if ye will - one immense
ferociously diametrically,
and cosmologically phenomena
opposite that of Polar Vortex
(perhaps an apropos
nom de plume
would be Hades Furnace)
asphyxiating, clapping,
and encapsulating thee
entire oblate spheroid planet.

Judgement day could be similarly
blazing hot on the saddles, or cold
as a witch’s ***, which constant reminders
during Spartan, slated singe shearing,
stoic upbringing inured us Lutherans
to bite the figurative bullet
(which melted like caramel)
during those scorching, sea-sickening,
and sunstroke unbearable vaporizing winds.

No matter the temperature considerably cooler
holed deep within man cave
(especially with central air conditioning
set at seventy degrees and a box and desk fan
blowing pleasant air), nonetheless
I still lose out viz zit head by exertion
as a zero sum game.

Let us bear witness to arm and blindfold...
each candidate for president of United States
and therefore witness a duel (to the death)
between Biden and Trump to determine
who occupies Oval Office as forty seventh
Chief executive of the federal government.

Since both the Democratic and Republican contenders
for prospective commander in chief offer pathetic odds
evening the prospect of the latter or former winning an
unequivocal fair and four square bilateral contest firing
a gun after being positioned back to back, then counting
of so many paces before turning around and facing off.

Neither combatant could be identified, cuz head to toe
bullet proof vests would encapsulate every square inch
of vulnerable flesh rendering incognito dead giveaway
characteristics, and a wig would don their numbskull
at a given signal communicated thru bluetooth headset
high powered firearm cocked and raised ready to aim
at opponent instantaneously caught in the crosshairs

premature ejaculations punctuated sound of silence, a
mortally wounded wimp versus over stuffed ego freezer
also suffering a fatal shot as madding crowds roar with
deafening frenzied ballistic approval atavistic gone ape
primal screaming decreeing spoken explosion of anarchy.

All hell broke loose likened to burst dam where humanity
witnessed annihilation into balkanization into capitulation,
disintegration into evisceration, into factionalization, into
horrification into insubordination into jubilation, liquidation
into militarization into nullification into obliteration into
promulgation, radicalization, tribulation, and veneration.

Suddenly out of bedlam deft ferocious hoodlum jump/kick
started linkedin nationalistic predation rebranded travesty
vocalizing xenophobia zealously attracting craven egocentric
gambling inimitably kleptomaniacal, mercurial, opportunistic
quixotic, sensational uber wordsmiths reductio absurdum
expostulating non-sequiturs endowed with hidden wisdom.

Though ordinarily a non violent (unrepentent punster to boot)
amazingly graceful aging hippie even while in utero I played
role of embryonic peace monger – marching within the womb
despite the cramped quarters, especially as I got closer to term
and occupied avast area of the ******, my mother participated
in numerous rallies exposing me to socially progressive events
no surprise when yours truly babbled on about revolutionaries.

I trumpet the withdrawal
of democratic contender from out the presidential race.

Breaking headline news story
courtesy rumor monger premieres
showcasing emphatic groundswell
against feeble minded incumbent.

Extraordinary turn of current events
immediately enlivens the United States populace
injecting much needed lively discussion
about gerontocracy deliberating for the electorate.

Though ill suited for any storied role in American government
yours truly (a sexagenarian) could vouchsafe for entrusting the
beleaguered state of the union in the hands of a qualified female
or male candidate born within Generation X Born 1965–1980.

Upon growing national groundswell of alarm
agonizing, capitalizing, eulogizing, galvanizing,
initializing, jeopardizing, polarizing...
voters (née namely citizens) of United States
plus capital one, buzzfeeding learned folks
linkedin courtesy webbed wide world,
an earthshaking crisis emboldens an erstwhile
average joe (biden his time) suddenly
chose to loose his humble opinion
across the Internet to affect

an immediate emergency session
of government officials
to address inexorable lurch
toward absolute zero democracy,
which liaison of Democrats and Republicans
necessitates closed door session
to resolve and allay the shear madness
lurking within the outer limits
of the fast approaching twilight zone
where dark shadows

creep toward utter chaos,
cuz our country tis of thee
teeters on the brink of
the astute heads of state,
and even popular stars
in the limelight beseech, implore,
and knead the malleable consciences
of sensible sons and daughters
genealogically linkedin to storied personalities
fomenting the American Revolution.

Outright riots promise to spill blood
and sacrifice the lives
of at least one anonymous worthy wordsmith,
(who might possibly
be an English Major incarnate)
in tandem with militant posses submerging
the land of the free
and home of the brave into anarchy
already terroristic subterfuge

rallies quintessential pronouncement
hinting quacking ducks lined in a row
where progostigation of dystopian future
impossible mission to detail
a scenario one cannot even conjure
from an overactive imagination
such as mine flirtation
with the Brave New World
already reflecting the absence of freedoms.

Not much effort required
to hypothesize severe limitations
and even harsh measures
taken against me for merely
sharing a what if scenario
barely even approximating
fallout from writing something
so passé as the following.
Haint no walk in the (Linkin) Park
(like back in the day
during the twenty fourth year
of the twenty first century),
I remember fondly as a sexagenarian -
shooting the breeze
on many a temperate
mid summer nights dream,
or later at four after midnight
nodding off to sleep
listening to deep sleep music

courtesy scouring youtube
then mostly free
from the electronic eyes of the government,
cuz soon sophisticated spyware -
linkedin with augmented/
virtual reality and microchips
incorporating sensors record
critical nodes' details traversed by each bit,
where computer hackers given free license
to explore weaknesses within system of the down.

Afterwards rigorously tested apps courtesy
south of the borders penned up
(think veritable sweatshop) preschoolers,
or applications put thru their paces
by kindergarteners similarly encaged
laboring with their collective cute button noses
to the grindstone sunup to sundown
exception made for little fingers reprieve
come holidays or birthday of product tester
prior to software being installed
on every machine sold for personal use) -
ultimately allowed (rather mandated)

by fiat and enabled a self declared autocrat
to obtain covert information
about another's computer activities
by transmitting data covertly from their hard drive -
espying websites visited
accumulating treasure trove of data -
possibly unwittingly hitting the bullseye
when subtly targeting and ingeniously
lampooning agent provocateur
cleverly communicating hidden messages
subsequently courtesy from said wiseacre.

America - This nation will remain
the land of the free only so long
as it is the home of the brave.
courtesy a local Indiana man,
one named Elmer Davis -
(1890-1958) was
a journalist and broadcaster.
He worked for the New York Times
from 1914 to 1924.
As nightly news analyst
for CBS (1939-1941)
he had an audience
of 12.5 million viewers.
Roosevelt appointed him head
of the newly created
Office of War Information (OWI) in 1941.

Most likely long hours,
maybe even days or weeks
after most contentious election
witnessed within the United States
after voting machines satisfactorily deployed
(meaning at long last contender identified)
once winning candidates declared,
EVMs again kept inside the strong room
and the room locked and sealed,
which again done in front of candidates
or their representatives,
plus signs taken as well.

I don't wanna be stayin' alive
come Tuesday, November 5, 2024
particularly if the presumed winner
as forty seventh president
none other than antithetical,
despotical, egotistical, fanatical,
heretical, impractical, lunatical...
oafish hull windswept orange
and yellow spray-on
hair dyed, coiffed,
and barb burred septuagenarian,
whose tidy quasi toupee
looks like a foreign racoon
migrated onto his head.

Cuz the death knell of democracy
willfully, woefully tolls
all across the webbed wide world
because Joseph Robinette Biden Junior,
whose insistence to remain in the drawing
drew droves of electorate to the polls,
handing victory margin,
whereby countless elephants
trumpeted far and wide
affecting a Republican landslide.

Impossible mission
to keep doors shuttered
over subsequent pandemonium
to hear donkeys braying,
bobbing, and babbling
doleful "hee-haw" sound,
not because their tails pinned incorrectly,
but rather courtesy yes
screaming fans of Mötley Crüe,
(that Doctor Feelgood could not cure)
sparking seismic activity equivalent

to a 9.9 magnitude
(so take that Taylor Swift)
deafening roar that rocks the crowded house
ushering bono fide pandemonium:
the name stems from Greek pan,
meaning 'all' or 'every',
and daimónion, a diminutive form
meaning 'little spirit', 'little angel',
or, as Christians interpreted it,
'little daemon', and later.

The aftermath of a Biden loss
(not just him - and his coterie
being called "loser"
the rest of life),
but would be a field day among
die hard Republicans,
and even some renegade Democrats
that would cause
the Grateful Dead to become awake
turncoats that would find
lovely bones of Benedict Arnold

rattling and humming with U2
courtesy hullabaloo quintessentially
branding, hashtagging, vetting and
rocketing nonestablishmentarians
as political outcasts
forcing an aging long haired
pencil neck geek such as yours truly (me)
forcing us (socially conscious voters)
to forage as a foreigner alienated, ostracized,
and penalized on another planet
survival incumbent upon

the outer limits of the twilight zone,
where dark shadows morphed,
jump/kickstarted, exaggerated
into monstrous shapes
along the edge of night,
which spooky, haunting,
ghastly, eerie place
more appealing than
then prospective tragic loss of freedoms
such as life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness.