Within the common (all purpose room)
     at highland manor apartments aye
daily encounter, one bewitchingly dreaded
     fiendishly horrible, jeeringly loopy,

     nap noopy, pugnaciously ravenous, talon
     viciously wizened, xenophobic yeti, zapping
     zeroing zillion zippers,
     zoned Zuckerman alley bye

barred doors fate helplessly jury-rigged
     sealed with with plaintive cry
no escape known to this man caught
     in a deadly voodoo clutch,

     thus doomed to die
ugly cannibalistic, frightful,
     heathen rumors myopic eyes espy
alarmed at feeling trapped

     akin to a wingless fly
tapping reserves of scape goat
     coping techniques ingenuity,
     which earned me moniker "fall guy"

where accursed cruel destined exit
     from getting husked, issued
     jagged lance like mandibles "hi
there unknown weekly reader", I

pray for super leftist
     write hand man/woman to extricate
     (via whipping up literary poetic fabrication),
     then joining me to sing jai

(let victory prevail against killer odds)
     perhaps summoning division
     of British shiver rights phalanx,
     hood reply with Hackneyed "oh kai"

springing surprise rescue,
     sans swooping inside
     this hermetically faux prison,
     where Matthew Scott Harris doth lie,

yet realistic to accept my
demise without putting up
     a good fight well nigh
but... if luck finds

     thee plucking this bard
     (out maws of death) be treated to custom
     ye will be rewarded with pie
ala mode enjoying a Quai
yet moment...yeah...fading hope...sigh!