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Apr 2022
with pistachio shells April 3rd, 2021
sitting in the exact same chair
yours truly sat three hundred
and sixty five days ago.

Watermelons, grapefruits, oranges...
lobbed at yours truly ruled out,
hence the missus dreamt up bright idea
to enfilade me courtesy pistachio shells.

Rather than just hurl one at a time,
(she who unwittingly helped inspire
contents of reasonable rhyme)
decided to throw handfuls
leguminous encasement
constituting cellulose and lignin,
creating woody appearance and texture.

Spouse trends toward being poor aim
nevertheless still manages
to wreak havoc
upon mine body electric,
I once upon a time
doubting thomas peacemonger became
anarchist overnight whereat
foo fighters claim
beastie boy wedded to culture club
divorce no longer sought
against devilish, girlish,

Jordache versus Levi Strauss
mulish, queerish fictitious dame
prone toward profanities to exclaim
waxes with wicked disposition
her charisma and persona sparkles
analogous to blinding flame
burning with passion
to play Gerald's game.

Said artificial intelligence I activate
courtesy mine overactive imagination,
she occasionally accidentally does berate
divine creator (me), yet more often than not
we feign shunning law and order
as faux vigilantes to celebrate

life, liberty and pursuit of happiness
allowing, enabling, and providing
opportunities to deviate
against nonestablishmentarian
dogma and ethos, I'm gonna estimate
as generally popular

counter culture paradigm
helping to beget, birth and facilitate
iconic nineteen ninety sixties
liberal transition to toleration
within parochial schema
did unwittingly generate
loosening quintessential

conventional racial and ****** precepts,
where obsolete doctrines staid to hibernate
sustaining repressive stereotypical mores
housing totalitarian, racist, bigoted
White Supremacist poisonous bile
doth fester and incubate.

Machinations of maniacs loose ill will
figuratively unhinged **** sapiens
destroy webbed fabric of civilization
domestic hate crimes on the rise
homegrown terrorism beget
vile killing rampages which proliferate
courtesy easy access to guns

triggering pandemic of violence
fueling undeclared warfare
putting innocent lives
within crosshairs
no time for victims to bid adieu
only option remaining for surviving
to mourn slain friends and family.

Grave situation rocks world
as ten commandments get unfurled,
whereby complacent grim reaper
with his signature scythe
within gnarled bony hands
he gamely twirled
since time immemorial,
and will be victor among many spoils

as tumultuous upheaval roils
courtesy reprobate who
brings death and destruction in their wake
giddy with delight at one or more
human lives he/she did take
causing, fomenting, instigating...
grievous sorrow to quake
perhaps someone with my namesake.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
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