The joy of being schizoid
by @matthew-scott-harris2p
when just a whippersnapper
of a little boy
me late mum and octogenarian pop agreed
for doctor removal of my adenoid
less to prevent their only son
from being coy
than fear of said male heir
to the harris throne becoming an android
a less than agreeable likelihood,
especially in tandem
with predilection of goy
this fateful outcome unfazed,
this now green giant, not the least bit annoyed
as captain crunch (before childhood didst end
i.e. distend into middle age)
beckoned yours truly with “A HOY”
horrified that my parents would be so blithe
to steer their son clear to avoid
psychotic outcome to deliver obliviousness,
and thus bring inner joy
so, they sent their peculiar male progeny
believing himself to be Pink Floyd
who found himself evicted desperately,
and in sore need of gainful m ploy
so he began his therapy in orifice
er office of Sigmund Freud
who bore a striking resemblance
to a wooden pecked prickly shaped toy
(a pickle iz just a pickle)
this mental analysis delved into past –
outcome I felt less than overjoyed
despite boss be addressed as Oedipus,
and pay verbal homage that did cloy
dredging layered past devoid
of love, yet flush with fallacious
prevaricated abuse from mister Lloyd
Lavinsky, a demon of a grade school bully
forsooth sanity he destroyed!