Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2018
Of My (Lenovo External) Computer Screen

Within mere nanoseconds,
     (or less than an instagram ming
     kickstarter reddit snap,
     chat ting shutter
     fly), this bopeep
awakens (i.e. ascends) beep
ping from, a pseudo steep
descent transcendental

     restorative meditation,
     (though there be
     unREM burr hubble
     dream times re:
     viz zit ting me
     "Max C. Mum" security creep
right after headroom gets
     shut-eye as

     requisite upkeep
whereat, I still feel fluky,
     *****, and yucky,
     sans like the Cisco kid)
     ready to be
     tossed on scrapheap,
and wanna get
     right back asleep

this, no matter
e'en if temporarily
     feel rested, and cheap
per after doze'n
     (ala bright tailed, sheep
     push, and bushy eyed),
     primed to leap,
over historically

     fattened dustheap,
nonetheless this ole baby
     boomer purportedly reap
aired awakens from deep
slumber, yet suddenly without
     warning internal forces
     overpowering, qua in
     tense gravitational pull

     immediately pulling slip
     ping vacuuming
     suction yanking me (a dude
dill ling Yankee) helplessly,
     irresistibly back into zzz
     top land of Honah Lee
     courtesy of Sleepy's
     easy chair holy jeep

pers, analogous to Uriah Heap,
when clear out the blue...
(screen of death), what should
     appear without a clue,
but hypersomnia (excessive daytime
     sleepiness) heavy as an Emu
pursuing with full force
     like gang (lion) busters goo

goo wing nsync with
     Doctor Zeus then stopping,
     cuz Horton hears a hoo
cryptic message loo
wuss lee translated
     (by Alaska Natives
     holed up in their igloo)
essentially means view

pixels will unwittingly woo
spell bind and forever bind you
to a flickr ring cursor
and aux com1 (an ex port)
whatsapp pining
to the human zoo.
Written by
matthew scott harris  58/M/schwenksville, penna
(58/M/schwenksville, penna)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems