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Bleak existence portrayed, nonetheless this (baby boomer) hybrid dreamer oft times evocative edenic reveries bekiss mine psyche with pastoral trappings evoking utopian bliss on par with drawing winning lottery ticket, which fantasy I quickly dismiss, where dolorous voices within me hiss mocking pipe dream compensating for unlived life hide miss whiling away hours of young adulthood... this threescore aged man did blithely **** away enraptured with Swiss Family Robinson fantasy, gladly exchanging tsoris entailing breathtaking adventure versus sequestered bookishness burr rowed nose engrossed with page turner capture ring imagination of this erstwhile drifter addressing, fixating, and keeping coiffure as disheveled appearance, where daily father and mother showed me the door particularly on account, cuz for one more nanosecond, they could not endure this healthy sole son vaping expenditure as both parents toiled away, they tired trying to swallow failure while primarily main feature of this poem lackadaisically exhausted as an Evansburg Park fixture (calling squirrels on first name basis), no sooner this bookworm gave vague gesture after setting foot inside abode - 'pon dusk asper whereabouts, off into bedroom I did immure and disappear into story maybe one about main character pledging indenture role as heavy footsteps shook 324 Level Road domicile infrastructure awaiting the wrath of Khan spouting ultimatums our father/son rapport long did inure a "NON FAKE" wall not immune to malicious, noxious, vicious... lecture to offspring who long outwore his Harris Tweed Scottish welcome mat, yet... feared testing nonsecure mooring which familiarity bred contempt!
0
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 12:50 PM UTC
No Heavenly Delight For This Atheist!
Bleak existence portrayed, nonetheless this (baby boomer) hybrid dreamer oft times evocative edenic reveries bekiss mine psyche with pastoral trappings evoking utopian bliss on par with drawing winning lottery ticket, which fantasy I quickly dismiss, where dolorous voices within me hiss mocking pipe dream compensating for unlived life hide miss whiling away hours of young adulthood... this threescore aged man did blithely **** away enraptured with Swiss Family Robinson fantasy, gladly exchanging tsoris entailing breathtaking adventure versus sequestered bookishness burr rowed nose engrossed with page turner capture ring imagination of this erstwhile drifter addressing, fixating, and keeping coiffure as disheveled appearance, where daily father and mother showed me the door particularly on account, cuz for one more nanosecond, they could not endure this healthy sole son vaping expenditure as both parents toiled away, they tired trying to swallow failure while primarily main feature of this poem lackadaisically exhausted as an Evansburg Park fixture (calling squirrels on first name basis), no sooner this bookworm gave vague gesture after setting foot inside abode - 'pon dusk asper whereabouts, off into bedroom I did immure and disappear into story maybe one about main character pledging indenture role as heavy footsteps shook 324 Level Road domicile infrastructure awaiting the wrath of Khan spouting ultimatums our father/son rapport long did inure a "NON FAKE" wall not immune to malicious, noxious, vicious... lecture to offspring who long outwore his Harris Tweed Scottish welcome mat, yet... feared testing nonsecure mooring which familiarity bred contempt!
matthew-scott-harris2p
Written by
66/M/schwenksville, penna
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 12:50 PM UTC
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