Harken and cue lyrics to All I Need Is a Miracle
Song by Mike + The Mechanics.

Aye, a quizzical hunky-dory
spied re: anomaly doth attest
forsooth to see himself as a mister
re: wordsmith, with whimsical
much about ado about nothing to write,
who hoped for a miracle
within the blink of an eye
videre licet, the lottery ticket of sight
immediately after cataract removal surgery
of the right eye
quite early today August 29th, 2024
at the DelVal ASC -
The Eye Surgery Center
744 West Lancaster Avenue
Suite 110, Wayne, Pennsylvania 19087.

A clear plastic eye covering worn after cataract surgery called an eye shield constitutes a lightweight, transparent shield that protects the eye from injury and particles that can cause irritation and infection. The shield usually secured with surgical tape and worn for several hours, with only removal to put in eye drops.

Aside from far fetched fat or slim chance
to draw a winning lottery ticket, yours truly
would feel gratuity if vision of mine
rendered me able
to see and befriend
Incy Wincy spider
climbing up the spout,
when Down came the rain
and washed the spider out.

Afterwards Out came the sunshine
and dried up all the rain,
And Incy Wincy spider
climbed up the spout again.

Ah the promise to arise in the morn
(which turned out to be a premature *******)
without the need for glasses ideally
to reveal sights unseen
(such as the above) restored to me
no less than twenty/twenty vision
without making a spectacle of myself.

Yours truly spins prevarication
courtesy using organs
called spinnerets located
on the underside of abdomen
linkedin on a grander scale
being spiritually tethered
to the webbed wide world
leaving realm of mine
overactive imagination to recaptcha
a divine creator

christened Matthew Scott Harris
emulating figurative rock climbers
as he finagles a precarious
toehold and finger hold
scaling the apex of wuthering heights,
which analogy I likened to Fiona Apple's
The Idler Wheel Is Wiser
Than the Driver of the *****
and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More Than Ropes Will Ever Do,

far from the madding crowd
proclaiming return of the native
after traipsing across the cyber sea
located longest album title
while searching for universal solvent,
which Longest title
of a music album is 156 words long,
achieved by Chumbawamba (UK)
with the album
"The Boy Bands Have Won",
released 3 March 2008.

The full title of the album is "The Boy Bands Have Won, and All the Copyists and the Tribute Bands and the TV Talent Show Producers Have Won, If We Allow Our Culture to Be Shaped by Mimicry, Whether from Lack of Ideas or from Exaggerated Respect. You Should Never Try to Freeze Culture. What You Can Do Is Recycle That Culture. Take Your Older Brother's Hand-Me-Down Jacket and Re-Style It, Re-Fashion It to the Point Where It Becomes Your Own. But Don't Just Regurgitate Creative History, or Hold Art and Music and Literature as Fixed, Untouchable and Kept Under Glass. The People Who Try to 'Guard' Any Particular Form of Music Are, Like the Copyists and Manufactured Bands, Doing It the Worst Disservice, Because the Only Thing That You Can Do to Music That Will Damage It Is Not Change It, Not Make It Your Own. Because Then It Dies, Then It's Over, Then It's Done, and the Boy Bands Have Won."

Otherwise titled deep into my fiftieth year of passive aggressive rebellious puberty.

Yes, I chickened out getting a haircut yesterday August twenty seventh two thousand and twenty four as stated in a previous poem before undergoing cataract surgery cause mine deux (mind you) ponytail donation of at least by donating at least eight inches of these straggly tresses to a facility that repurposes cut hair for Children with Hair Loss after getting golden – more specifically brunette imponderable locks lopped off, would still cost me thirty five dollars namely at Salon Nova (situated at west Ridge Pike, Suite A, Royersford, Pennsylvania, 19468) not including a tip, which extra bonus, (would most likely top off the total cost close to fifty dollars, but yours truly best ask this question ahead of time, which monetary fait accompli with scissors might best set my sights until speedy recovery videre licet post cataract surgery.

Sacrilegious transgression against deeply rooted obsessive compulsive disorder impossible mission to forcibly eject from out my psyche, until drastic measure of prefrontal lobotomy or Electroconvulsive therapy employed courtesy a thirteen year old.

Siege warfare (trumpeting)
average joe biden his time
linkedin with aberrant behavior
transpires within me mind,
(not just today August 27th, 2024,
but everyday/365)
warrants depleting stockpile arsenal
constituting exhausting mental health
uprooting deep seated repellent pesky
daunting lost cause.

Overruled by irrational thoughts,
I feebly muster a lame duck
half quacked comeback
(think home team cheering at pep rally)
against analogous figurative agents provocateur
said nemesis bore down hard
upon sense and sense abilities
mine psyche undergoing
blistering, hectoring withering, et cetera
courtesy ghost of Emily Brontë
mailer daemons flitting to and fro,
hither and yon within wuthering heights.

Another necessity Emma gin)
awoke prided prejudice
plus sense and sensibility
to confront head on
after trimming back the tresses
beastie boy foo fighting (Irish,
no matter genealogy regarding
yours truly Eastern European)
mine talking head housing
private insane asylum.

Incomprehensible thought processes
chronically spin out of control
dictate mandate NOT to wash hair
until at least one week passage of time,
(an arbitrarily chosen number
i.e. seven days convenient block)
even if appearance looks unkempt, slovenly
grungy, et cetera as nirvana seeking guy.

Thus, I readily admit self held hostage,
whereby loopy thought provoking patterns
hopelessly, grimly, futilely find me surrendering
NEVER eradicating down battened ramparts
neurotic, lunatic approved, idiotic
mind mental chattering
babbling jabbering gibberish
housing concocted village people
dead set against shampooing oily locks.

Quite a tussle (think metaphorical hair pulling)
ensues within me scrambled noggin,
whereby pathetic psychotic pummeling
win knows scrimmage
scoring touchdown amidst
teaming muted brouhaha
allowing, enabling, and providing
harmlessly insane nettlesome
pesky skewed notions
ridiculous leeway to predominate
until yours truly USDA
qualified, hashtagged, certified...
as grateful dead among human league.

I generally mean mine mien mental state
moost occasions heavily marinated stupor
long established as external trait
psychologically time tested trooper
impossible mission to kickstart sanity
doppelgänger regularly revisits his soul asylum
hellbent antimatter he cannot vitiate
despite therapeutic laxative merely exhausts
well bred literate smoking doobie brother
eliminating aforementioned pablum
witnessed courtesy one floundering grouper
among plenty of fish schooled
hyphenated (high finned haggled)
burn hushed scaled poem
courtesy one unionised rebellious party pooper.

Spellbound with colossal mental grippe
(i.e. all-consuming figurative cerebral
obsessive compulsive forced membership)
magnetic resonance imaging
indicated jagged blip
and/or nsync microscopy
showed telltale genetic authorship
regarding above stated mental health crisis,
whereby Sigmund Freud analyst did flip
lid freeing leeches imported courtesy Philip
Hansel and Gretel a mere slip
o' lass, whose nose she always did turnip.

from the Harris-Walz front
where liberal minded socially progressive
electorate doth agonizingly grunt
targeted in crosshairs scoped out
eager and ready to be mortally wounded
courtesy notorious big headed
(and bigoted) infamous
for bearing arms
as if going on a hunt
as attested to him and recorded for all of posterity on March 14, 2019 at 3:05 EDT by Analysis colunist Philip Bump, (a national columnist for The Washington Post; before that he led political coverage for The Atlantic Wire. One of the paper’s most read writers, he focusses on the data behind polls and political rhetoric), he recorded one of the most famous and insightful lines Donald Trump offered on the campaign trail in 2016 came during a stop in Iowa, shortly before that state’s caucuses.
“I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody and wouldn’t lose any voters, okay?” Trump said, mimicking firing a gun with his fingers. “It’s, like, incredible.”

"Blast it!!" I am gunning for the glib gal
versus MAGA sugar daddy
gesticulating his arms akimbo,
whose lowball unflattering unprintable
pet phrases for Kamala
indicative of a short, and nasty brute,
whose vile (hints) might be excusable
if he suffered epileptic seizures grand mal
drops names of ruthless dictators as his pal,
who sport trademark coiffed hirsute
allocating, designating, ginning, jumpstarting,
and mandating excessive monetary resources
for his poofed hair courtesy project 2025
and then when confronted becomes immediately mute
and does a spot on rendition of Marcel Marceau
engaging in ******* with a *******.

"Arms akimbo" is an adjective or adverb that means having your hands on your hips with your elbows turned outward. For example, "She stood there akimbo". The word "akimbo" comes from the Middle English phrase in kenebowe, which means "at a sharp angle". The word was first recorded between 1375 and 1425, and may come from the Old Norse phrase i keng boginn, which means "bent into a crook".

After watching some
of the Democratic National Convention,
mainly the first and second nights,
I felt tears of joy rapture
welling up inside me
after listening to such
brilliant, fantastic, nuances
sounding out monologues
utilizing English language
to maximize stellar oratory,
which lengthy list of speakers follows suit:

On Monday, delegates heard from former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, first lady Jill Biden and the president himself.

Tuesday's session featured addresses from former President Barack Obama, former first lady Michelle Obama, Sen. Bernie Sanders, Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker and others.

Wednesday night heard from former President Bill Clinton, Gov. Josh Shapiro, former Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Walz.

Here's the full speakers list for Thursday:

Minyon Moore, chair of the 2024 Democratic National Convention Committee
Invocation by Everett Kelly, national president of the American Federation of Government Employees, and Imam Muhammad Abdul-Aleem of Masjidullah Mosque of West Oak Lane, Pennsylvania
Presentation of Colors by the Illinois State Police Honor Guard
Pledge of Allegiance by Luna Maring, a 6th grader from Oakland, California
Rep. Veronica Escobar of Texas
Becky Pringle, president of the National Education Association
Randi Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers
Sen. Alex Padilla of California
Marcia Fudge, former secretary of Housing and Urban Development
Rep. Ted W. Lieu of California
Sen. Tammy Baldwin of Wisconsin
Rep. Katherine Clark of Massachusetts, House Democratic Whip
Rep. Joe Neguse of Colorado
Mayor Leonardo Williams of Durham, North Carolina
Rep. Raja Krishnamoorthi of Illinois
Sen. Bob Casey of Pennsylvania
Sen. Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts
Rep. Jason Crow of Colorado
Rep. Elissa Slotkin of Michigan
Rep. Pat Ryan of New York
Rev. Al Sharpton
Members of the "Central Park Five": Dr. Yusef Salaam, member of the New York City Council, and activists Korey Wise, Raymond Santana and Kevin Richardson
Amy Resner, former prosecutor and friend of Harris
Karrie Delaney, director of Federal Affairs at the ****, Abuse & ****** National Network
Lisa Madigan, former attorney general of Illinois
Marc Morial, president of the National Urban League
Nathan Hornes, former student at Corinthian Colleges
Tristan Snell, former New York State assistant attorney general
Gov. Maura Healey of Massachusetts
Courtney Baldwin, youth organizer and human trafficking survivor
Deb Haaland, secretary of the interior
John Russell, content creator
Rep. Maxwell Frost of Florida
Rep. Colin Allred of Texas
Joint remarks on "A New American Chapter": Anya Cook, Craig Sicknick, Gail DeVore, Juanny Romero and Eric, Christian, and Carter Fitts
National anthem by The Chicks
Kerry Washington
Joint remarks by Meena Harris, Ella Emhoff and Helena Hudlin
D.L. Hughley
Sheriff Chris Swanson of Genesee County, Michigan
Rep. Lucy McBath of Georgia, joined by Abbey Clements of Newton, Connecticut; Kim Rubio of Uvalde, Texas; Melody McFadden of Charleston, South Carolina; and Edgar Vilchez of Chicago.
Gabrielle Giffords, former member of the House
Performance by P!NK
Sen. Mark Kelly of Arizona
Leon Panetta, former secretary of defense
Rep. Ruben Gallego of Arizona
Gov. Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan
Eva Longoria, actress and film producer
Adam Kinzinger, former member of the House
Maya Harris
Gov. Roy Cooper of North Carolina
Vice President Kamala Harris.

Shoot! Thar haint no other candidate
within a bajillion miles
worth celebrating with unbridled fête
cuz the other contestant
(hands down) ranks as ingrate
man dragging fetters shrilly mutters,
the opposition mumbles,
no you don't get away with freedom
them words to ****, cuz
against peace mongers
this republic for liberty,
which country stands under
the grateful dead
someone must liberate
the ship of state
one must steadily operate
even courtesy motley skeleton crew
captained, governed, and trumpeted
by weird Wharton wimp
linkedin to leitmotif reprobate
with lips he doth undulate
poisoning the fresh air
and poll looting the audiological
and visual realm of vulnerable listeners
courtesy radio and television waves.

attempt to break thru Hadrian's Wall
while roam'n across cyberspace of urban sprawl
dark shadows spill across
the outer limits of the twilight zone
whereby edge of night
creeps brow of me, a Neanderthal!

Yours truly self proclaimed
er calculating polymath
no win no campy intent to kindle,
or spark hay8 full ire rate wrath
juiced whiling away
the early evening hour hath
horror hived this then February
twenty second two thousand eighteen,
revised this early afternoon of August 24th,
two thousand twenty fourth
nah scared to take a bath.

The Process (is a Process All Its Own)
self accomplishments, I modestly credit
a disembodied humble liberal spirit
eye up ply applies
to brainstorming with zest to whit
barn storming across das plains of google
to pitchfork embers tuff flickr tinder lee
with smart poetic dip pose zit
tool loom hen ate interior darkness
where lurks the monstrous akin to Perdido
otherwise known as perdition,

especially Native American
linkedin as The Buffalo Hunter
pseudonym adopted by Ballard and Sandrine,
The Green Woman, whose Side predicted to win
Pork Pie Hat predicated on Feng Shui yang and yin
force fields property aligned creates A Special Place
predominantly filled with A Dark Matter
only known (bee you wick), i.e.,The Skylark,
and of course Poe's Children, totaling 5 Stories
helpful to down with a chaser
viz - The Little Blue Book Of Rose Stories
Ideally red (red) in The Night Room,
where an unsuspected parvenu
absconded with Lost Boy, Lost Girl
housing Magic Terror, but interestingly
one must ask - Isn't It Romantic?

Via the perspective Looking Back
feigning to be combination of Mr. X, and/or
and Mrs. God innocent looking people
yet, the progenitors of The Hellfire Club
burnt offerings indistinguishable from Blue Rose
fragrance or melancholy Ghosts
resembling trumpeting Floating Dragon
invoking grabbing by The Throat sensation
Where spirits flit to and fro
throughout neighborhood Houses Without Doors

and games without frontiers
this...a millennial Mystery
unlike the generic Ghost Story,
the main anti protagonist and/or
pro antagonist, nonetheless named Koko
who calls The Juniper Tree home,
especially eerie Under Venus
provoking Wild Animals
kickstarting rolling stones
to run berserk at lightspeed

en masse Black Sabbath
bestirs cries and whispers
proto, pseudo psychedelic
quint essence ova thermocouple
holographic images hypnotizing
vista as Shadowland
explicit formula generating
happy interracial Marriages
nah...ha - ah, the joe cuz on ewe
especially, If You Could See Me Now!

made fibrous threads...constituting heavy blanket
(crocheted by the missus)
on a cool Autumn like morning...

to stave off experiencing getting
chilblains, goosebumps,
or subjected to the blast of cold air
wafting thru the opened bedroom window
on a frosty early August morning
about a month before official start of Autumn.

Quite refreshing the brisk temperatures
courtesy a cold front
that allows, enables, and provides
a harbinger and foretaste
when those hazy, hot, and humid, languid
and torpid days of summer quickly forgotten
as the lazy fox jumped over the brown dog
the latter slumbering
after weathering triple digit temperatures
record breaking heat waves
for the history books.

Though generally prone to being tired
subsequently driven to be a caffeine ******
unable to swing from trees like me monkey
forebears, I get energized
after an early afternoon siesta
in tandem with the missus
unwittingly actualizing, employing,
implementing, and underwriting
Sir Isaac Newton's first law of motion
also known as the law of inertia, states
that an object at rest will remain at rest,
or if in motion, will remain in motion
at a constant velocity
unless acted upon by an external force.

The above immovable status of one body,
albeit human an ideal synopsis of yours truly
all throughout his doggone life, especially
when a student (at the School of Hard Knocks)
remaining deaf, dumb
and mute to the webbed wide world:
if asked a question responding with
my quintessential shoulder shrug,
which characteristic inherited
courtesy our youngest
and second born daughter.

Cold winter days
seem closer on the horizon,
when yours truly sequesters,
and cloisters himself with bad company -
not by personal choice -
i.e. those pesky fruit flies riddling man cave
within four walls of apartment unit b44
for seven long years of penal solitude
(denuded of cell bate)
unlike conventional Norwegian bachelor farmers
living social during their Neptune salad days
and a side apertif of powder milk biscuits.

Ungroomed hair on head and face
found my mother back in the day
when I unfortunately lived under the same roof
as an emerging adult
with mother and father;
she resorted to hashtagging me
(her one and only prodigal son)
as a member of the Ubangi tribe,
the name of peoples
who live in the Congo River basin
to the west of Mossaka,
while the Binga Pygmies and the Sanga
scattered through the northern basin.

Being demonized, humiliated,
lambasted, psychologically
like totally vilified et cetera
(courtesy mommy dearest,
who referred to me
when a little boy as her monkey)
kickstarted inferiority complex
and a love of bananas.

I ofttimes consider myself the missing link,
a hypothetical extinct creature  
thought to be an intermediate form
in the evolutionary line between
modern humans and their ape-like ancestors
scraping his knuckles along the ground
as he ambles along
the boulevard of broken dreams
******* primal grunts and groans
essentially the mating call
inevitably invoking ribald hyena like guffaws
from uber hominids within the human jungle,
who managed to lyft themselves
by their bootstraps.

no matter whether or not ya give a hoot

especially after feeling super charged
watching the second night of
Democratic National Convention conclave
ushering a hint of "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.

Men and women are born and remain free and equal in rights. Social distinctions may be founded only upon the common good.

Article 1 of the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen (‘Déclaration des Droits de l’Homme et du Citoyen’)

Yours truly (a poker face)
exceptionally shy person
as a little boy who maintained an
inscrutable impassive expression
that hid my true feelings
similar to an adept card "Sharp" and "shark"
born this way nocturnal chronotype.

I dusk cover tenebrous dark shadows
creeping closer along the edge of night
punctuating the outer limits
of the twilight zone,
where something mist tickle
and magical happens
after the stroke of midnight
during the wee hours of a dawning day.

When morning hath broken
tis time to prepare tea for the tillerman
fifty plus shades of gray matter
in mine noggin o' mine feels askew
eyes wanna remain shut tight
add teared with super glue
bookmarking, dawning, and foisting
wispy tendrils o' daylight curlicue
wing analogous to fragrant
aroma of barbecue

said quotidian wake up calls
could not gently assuage, bestir,
boot cannot command.com, i.o.sys,
nor msdos.sys me
to arouse yours truly anew
without fail generated
abort, retry, and fail
thus deadened to
world wide web, I continued
to remain dead,

albeit "FAKE" robbed zombie,
this inability to evince being
bright eyed and bushy tailed
not always true
cuz, I remember myself as
precious, hilarious, rambunctious... kid shew
wing vital signs of life easily
confused for screeching bat that flew
out the portals of Hellenistic Hades
wolfing down breakfast of champions,

cereal, and then bidding cheery adieu
to mother (during her
prime mate ting years)
dashing off (with two
twisted sisters in tow)
to board school bus,
while said vehicle still in moe
shun, bobbing up and down,
(no app pell Le Cajun needed)
excited to mingle amidst peers,

especially Joe King
even when afflicted with Dengue
Fever, a slight setback
eagerly awaiting new
learning would ensue
maintaining enthusiastic countenance
never showing moue
handy dandy dee moody blue
affectation, yet buzzfeeding thru
one grade after another with flying colors

well..., not quite
straight exemplary A's, B's, nor C's
mine doting parents never made overissue
regarding grades (mine hew
wing, trending Xing past
beginning of ABC – alphabet)
nonetheless promoted,
cuz momma and poppa did eschew
the punishing impact,
wrought courtesy repeated grade

thus hopping, skipping,
and jumping kangaroo
simultaneously reed dully
playing invisible didgeridoo
until BAM, arising chipper as a lark
became futile effort this yahoo
suddenly feeling hijacked,
lowjacked, whacked... numbskull
metaphorically within by bamboo,
nope remaining like ****** temple pilot

doggone catatonic dunderhead *****
loose wooden demeanor,
when at some juncture switcheroo
inside this body dielectric fleshy hue
man, whereby he dozed off
until...four after midnight, (or thereabouts)
invariably entranced by practitioner of voodoo
hok kood also tame a shrew
wild horses couldn't drag me out of bed
(been there... done that) even a slew

of feral ponies quasi native -
all muscle and sinew
to Chincoteague, and/
or Assateague Islands,
thus resigned myself maximizing energy
particularly after using water loo
when hunger pains drove acute
ability with absolute zero effort
yes believe me you
such hyperawareness came to rescue
writer's block - whew!

Predicated on his paying obese sense
to Ronald McDonald patron saint
buzzfeeding his pie hole
courtesy "two Big Macs, Fillet-O-Fish
and a chocolate malted,"
he hungrily nabbed the ⁦Tuesday,
November 5, 2024⁩ election
ofttimes series of unfortunate events
found him holed up
in his Mar-a-Lago Donjon club.

After demise of western civilization
linkedin to implementation of Project 2025
courtesy the forty seventh president
of these currently fragmented United States,
left a legacy that rivaled
the fall of the Roman Empire.

Nary a trace of North American grandeur
discerned amidst the bombed out
rubble strewn landscape
after the second Civil War,
triggered global mortal kombat,
which far eclipsed
the first and second world wars
in death and destruction
(courtesy Beatle browed
foo fighting, gun toting rebel rousers,
who fomented revolution)
rent asunder many a complex edifice
symbolizing once cherished
life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.

Feeble hot pockets of resistance
constituting battle weary
tried and true troopers for democracy
outmatched by phalanx
of heavily armed local militia.

No matter wickedly wrought shenanigans
essentially widely accessible
Artificial Intelligence tools
allowed, enabled, and provided users
to synthesize audio in anyone’s voice,
generated photo-realistic images of anybody
doing nearly anything, and power
social media bot accounts
with near human-level conversational abilities —
and rendered on a vast scale and with a reduced
or negligible investment of money and time.

Due to the popularization of chatbots
and the search engines
they quickly became absorbed into,
also disallowed, disabled the first election season
in which large numbers of voters
routinely consumed information
that is not just curated
by Artificial Intelligence
but produced by Artificial Intelligence.

Blatantly unconcerned
about the populace at large,
nor any promises made
while he angrily stormed
across the country
stumping as dictator of the free world
after riling the madding crowds
enthusiastically populating campaign trail,
most of his waking hours spent
schmoozing with other de facto
autocrats while divvying up the *****
of annexed, subjected vassal states,
(a vast swath of territory
mainly comprising the former Soviet
breakaway Baltic states,
and about a dozen republics
under the sway of Russia),
violently yanked back in the fold
of Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin.

Within this brave new webbed, wide world
each man, woman and child
needs to fend for him/herself,
and those people flush
with ample disposable income
will pay (thru the nose,
hence the bigger the schnoz the better)
for security details unless he/she
presents an intimidating mean mien,
possesses black belt
with at least one martial arts,
or a powerful lucky charm
to ward off threatening hooligans.

Essentially lawlessness will run amuck
imagined in one guise as
the phantom of the opera nemesis
multi pronged ferocious buck
accompanied by an outsize
chicken legged stricken man,
who doth bawk and cluck
also enlisting cannibalistic
commander in chief wannabe
tricked out as Donald Duck.

Even prior to any political fracas,
I decry being dependent
(and at the mercy)
to purchase commodities
within consumerist society hierarchy,
yet envy people who live off the grid
fostering an ecologically friendly lifestyle,
versus being linkedin to Market capitalism
(an economic system where private individuals
and corporations own the means of production,

and the government has a limited role)
yet yours truly never aggressively learned how
to become self sufficient ala **** Proenneke
(him of "Alone in the Wilderness" fame -
when he retired at age 50 in 1967  
decided to build his own cabin in the wilderness
at the base of the Aleutian Peninsula,
in what is now Lake Clark National Park)
and certainly never belonged
to an Amish community,

never surviving with some degree
of independent comfort,
cuz the sole son of Harriet and Boyce Harris
overstayed his welcome
by living social under the same roof
as said mother and father,
who ofttimes delivered hollow ultimatums
to shape up or ship out –
meaning intolerance exhibited
toward their singular male offspring,

who struggled securing
and maintaining gainful employment),
hence fantasies throve
somehow magically acquiring
carpentry and farming skills
sturdy accommodations house families
where every timber secured by strong hands,
and stitch of clothing sewn courtesy adroit woman
traditional gender stereotypical roles obeyed
as if ordained by Biblical
credo, fiat, ideology, et cetera.