To avoid the pitfall of prospective homelessness
which near future prospect
induces existential angst I confess.

Today (written
countless years ago), I wanna die
and bid good riddance grandly
going gamesomely gra grave,
de deum, and cymbal crash
to Bing mulct emotionally,
physically and spiritually -
all the grinding hardships
would be gone in a flash
how tempting to seek
of a solution sans hemlock

or other deadly potion,
whereby toothless mouth need not gnash
boot simply swallow
and drink from the goblet of
mortal freedoms renting psych *** under
with purposelessness mine hash
tag, which bout with suicide
while n the edge of thirteen -
Anorexia nervosa defeated -
then as now experience
10,000 banshee maniacs whip lash

lacerating, flagellating,
and repeatedly rousing thoughts
shin to circle back to why death
be not proud when life on par with a mash
up of ennui, futile
gobbledygook housing incubus
analogous luft waffe bombardiers quash
the joie de vivre per
je ne sais quois spritely spring
in step happy jollity,
and levity attempt to make light

of psychological me's mental illness rash
whence thru the then lvii roam min years
as chief garbage taster of trash
hurled my way gnome matter
the gremlins dwelt within the Wabash
distance to inflict din er
of dissonance targeted
this mortal for'er abash
as soon as he got expelled
from the womb,
his reddened ears did bash

from sonic screaming boom
causing astir the nurses
into the maternity ward
of me late mum sped like dash
her, and fast as a comet
Prancer doth emulate
a con ***** dancer,
cuz ova this rude half
re: that came a boot
from genetic
chromosomal DNA wash.