Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2021
I dashed (off the enclosed poem) yay
while safely secured within
white horse open sleigh
after reading following
pray lemme know if ye uttered oy vey.

Profound insights divulged
during our most recent family zoom
Approximately seven hundred
and fifty four months since exiting womb,
yours truly (sole son
of late Boyce Brandon -
yes she named him
after paternal grandmother
Sadie, her mom's Yiddish name
Basia Brana or Brandla)
me currently ensconced within unit B44

analogous to catacomb
amid Highland Manor Apartments
I dwell - our livingsocial hole in the wall
among grateful dead residents
facility likened to metaphorical tomb
each stone individually moved one at a time
courtesy hearty and hale archeologists
resident to Qom
(a city in northwestern Iran -
place of pilgrimage for Shiite Muslims)

to imbibe on spiritual succor
and become comfortably numb
acquiring appropriate trailing appellation,
yes a USDA, FDA, B Corp... and
Pink Floyd approved nom de plume,
which feeble poetic brainstorm
begat within mine
sixty plus shades of gray matter,
which exhaustive mental effort
induced silent but deadly ka-boom

one Matthew Scott Harris
rent asunder vaporized to smithereens,
hence each his personal possessions
cherished as prized heirloom
no trace left behind
regarding pulverized lovely bones,
nevertheless burnt offerings
specialists did painstakingly exhume
where Ashkenazi temple will bloom.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
My humblest apology for lame rhyme
with previous word similar to crypt
yours truly deserted and he gypped
thee while crawling
across Sahara during nighttime
dehydration subsequently
found me tight lipped
I called Uber, but could not get a lyft.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
90
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems