There's popcorn on the ceiling,
a million bajillion clusters that I've spent days trying to count.
In the 1950's these ceilings exploded into popularity.
And until 1977, homeowners blasted asbestos covered popcorn toward the sky, letting mesothelioma fibers fall back to their floor like it was harmless dust.
I take a deep breath, letting the air settle deep in my chest before letting it back out.
My ceiling is probably not made of asbestos.
It's probably styrofoam or some other cheap, paper-based product.
I take another deep breath.
The EPA banned the use of asbestos in these ceilings.
Apparently, inhaled in large quantities, asbestos causes lung disease, lung scarring, and lung cancer.
Another deep, deep breath.
I continue counting the probably not cancer causing popcorn.
I wonder if I would be able to feel the particles swimming in my lungs like fiber glass–thin, delicate, sharp.
I wonder if it would **** me.
I wonder if my family would file a claim like you see on those old commercials screaming,
"If you or a loved one developed mesothelioma you, yes you, could be entitled to compensation."
Or, something like that.
Breathe.
The air tastes funny.
My ceiling is most likely not made of asbestos.
But, I probably wouldn't care if it was.

he was the kind of beautiful he would never admit to himself or to anyone else, the kind nobody else would ever mention to him in passing. you wouldn't really notice it, either, but you kind of knew it too, deep inside where you kept your most precious secrets, and you would only know anyways if you took the time to look into his face and study those eyes, and oh! oh, those creases by the side of his mouth because he was always, always laughing, even when he was mad he was laughing, like he was born into this world to be happy, born to be so much freakin’ happier than everybody else that for a second, you want something, you want what he has, but you don’t really know what it is.

and he has brown eyes, most definitely brown eyes, except they're so much more than just brown eyes it feels wrong to say just ‘brown’. a bajillion gajillion people have brown eyes, but his, they hold so much and they mean so much more- they're empty and they're deep and they hold so much promise, like a locked diary that you once had the keys to but lost so much years ago you can’t even count them on your fingers, and she can see so many colors in them- purple, golden-blue-ish colors with pink tints like the sky before a sunrise which aren't very manly colors, so you keep your mouth shut.

he was that kind of beautiful. the kind with chestnut-brown hair, except darker than that, except not really chestnut- it was warmer than that, really, and darker than that too, like the kind of gooey-warm-piping-hot melting mess of a marshmallow over a fire, the kind that burns your fingertips and leaves black stains on your jeans but melts perfectly in your mouth, except marshmallows aren't brown by any stretch of the imagination, and that's the feeling you know no one else would understand- so you keep it to yourself.

and if she ever told anyone, they would think- "oh. another giggling girl going after the basketball ****." that’s all they would think, she could see it in their faces they were thinking that, but she doesn't say anything because what if she's wrong? what if they're thinking about how strange she looked, or what was for lunch, or how long chemistry homework will take them, so she swallows her words because she knows they don't know

that he's really his kind of beautiful, not that kind of beautiful that people say only when they're trying to say ugly in a kinder way, but really, truly, his own kind of beautiful,

and

now you know exactly what you want.

My ears are tingling
from the barrage of dyslexic sounds
and my hair is curling as fast as
any olympic event

I can't pay attention either
It all just drifts by
invisably swept in the
seawave current

Nothing else matters
Does it
Because my legs twitch
anyway

And it spreads with infection
Giggling like a gaggle of geese
or girls
to peak the top
of the end of
the bungee rope

Sweeping fans clear the cobwebs
full of the captive sunbeams
in the rafters in the closets
the minds of the mimes

Petering out
to Only a tri kle
A pleasure of peaking
and swifting being overwhelmed
by the black hole of the past
turning the world inside out

Falls
That's what it All does
Then crystallizes
into a thousand twenty bajillion four
morsels of careless color
Shining and gleaming spotlights

Tantalizing the eyes
of silly maskéd
prisoners
Turning them on
tremendously

but it all grays
to mud all the colors
in a palette make gray
You knew that
when you were a child

So pick up the paintbrush
   and follow the directions
by the people who cared
enough to invent
a color by number
So easy and convenient

Even never in your wildest
dreams could
You imagine

the warning words website not secure
nearly left writer of these words **** poor.

usually linkedin with ******* websites
lest ye find yourself in the maws of hackers.

generalization utilized to communicate actual
online experience that occurred Wednesday
(August 24th, 2022), while i unwittingly in
the shower lathering up my hair, which inter
lude of relaxation interrupted when the missus
shouted out serious message identification.

yours truly paid steep price courtesy the wife
who ventured forth into seedy webbed world
she zealously, nonchalantly, blithely ventured
into steamy underbelly of fetid depraved beast.

to unlock access to Macbook Pro i grudgingly,
depressingly, angrily forked over five hundred
ninety eight dollars and ninety nine cents pronto
courtesy PayPal to purported vendor/merchant
named Support Desk, which supposed technician
asked me to relinquish control of said laptop in
order to troubleshoot alarming situation regard
ding motley crew jump/kick starting getting my
precious data specifically and most importantly
including banking information allowing, enabling

and providing nasty and brutish cyberpunks to
siphon every last cent painstakingly acquired by
slew of empathetic professional psychological
helpmates (such as george adams, jean dole, elba
dorley, gabe pinkski, paul sacks), who vouchsafed
crippling anxiety afflicted me, which agreed upon
diagnosis schizoid personality disorder qualified
yours truly to receive social security disability, a
dog send to allow, enable, and provide unearned
income to help meet basic costs of livingsocial.

fortunately i did not need to establish gofundme
site, cuz wise mind within mine noggin suspected
unsavory shenanigans after speaking (with con-
siderable agitation) over the telephone with deux
(not good) fellas compounded by language barrier,
who brazenly wrested remote control of aforesaid
computer (courtesy ramping up fear factor) wrought
by unforgiving hackers would wantonly wreak havoc
with mein kampf destroying financial security nsync

ruining OpenOffice poetry and prose documents, and
even though worst case scenario avoided thus far, an
uneasy feeling grips every fiber of mine corporeal,
emotional, and spiritual being, cuz instinctive sixth
sense came to the rescue and touché Matthew Harris
for filing a claim with Citizens bank after above stated
dollar figure posted nipping in bud potential fraudulent
cyber scheme, which one aging long haired pencil
necked geek naive nattering nerdy nabob of negativism
nearly got hoodwinked.

I haint no spring chicken,
("Buk buk buk buk ba-gawk!")
but in Summer re:
long in tooth sexagenarian
nostalgic for the following imagery
evoked yesterday with very little effort
(aside from sweat of my brow – just existing)
June twenty second hazy, hot, and humid
at least here within the environs -
of Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
tooth thousand and twenty four,
the air analogous to a steam bath outside,
though such insight
strictly predicated on meteorologist
as seen on the flat screen.

Now before scrolling down
lemme forewarn you of dire prediction
reading about how yours truly
doth suspire for Old Man Winter
returning with a vengeance
delivering a white July Fourth, Halloween,
Thanksgiving, Christmas,
Groundhog Day, Saint Patrick's Day...
yours truly desiring experiencing
becoming comfortably numb,
after envisioning, invoking
then summoning forth cold spell.

Should deep freeze rain (reign)
crystalline precipitation pure as the driven snow
blanketing large swaths of webbed wide world
wreaking havoc courtesy
unparalleled blizzard conditions,
would stump and confound earth scientists
suddenly finding themselves pensively *******
subsequently becoming overnight skeptics
and staunch Republicans to boot - argh,
who grudgingly, hesitatingly scrap

what seemed to be
irrefutable air tight evidence
with reams of data proving global warming
and side with deniers –
mostly non Democrats
courtesy artificial intelligence
hinting at inexplicable
significant ice age approaching,
barreling, and coming fast as a freight train
virtual models prognostication

would show Polar Vortex
engulfing the entire planet
clamping down hard
much of the United States
likely a couple short months in the future,
forecasting temperatures to register absolute zero
taxing the electric grids to heat lovely bones
chilling, freezing, immobiling civilization, whereby
government agencies regularly issuing
permanent code blue declarations,

which teeth chattering cold scenario
impossible mission to imagine or avoid
with wind chill factors in triple digits
Jack Frost overstayed courtesy welcome,
when climate controlled central heater
allows, enables and provides
man/woman made respite hooray,
apartment cozy as a poetry nook,
whereby yours truly his head he doth lay
(under crocheted blanket)

quickly slipping into deep sleep;
the missus (madre) and her padre
(me) taking a siesta until spring
in my dream I take treadway
from such new zzz land
to Piccadilly Circus, London,
welcoming me to early twentieth century
balmy weather all year round
place named Willoughby, where one
unnecessary to get bundled

and wrapped up –
like a mummy dearest  
kvetching in vain at frigid forecast oy vey,
where surveillance cameras take x-ray
of suspicious character - Not Me,
while actually in reality
outside apartment B44
one after another Nor'easter
howls like bajillion banshees
vents wind chill factor

as temperature dips
into low double digits as high,
and subzero higher negative number as a low,
I summon (with a puff) fire breathing
friendly quasi magic dragon,
an acceptable and laughable substitute
calls for none other than Barney
purple anthropomorphic
Tyrannosaurus Rex dinosaur.

Though a non-smoker of cigarettes,
I discover pleasure slowly puffing
on my pipe, and chose one at random
from among the collection
made of briar wood, meerschaum,
corncob, pear-wood, rose-wood or clay  
listening to crackling flickering hearth,
yours truly snuggling
(curled up in a little ball)
with favorite reading material
close proximity warming,
thawing, and quelling lovely bones.

For no particular rhyme nor reason
I lapse into a reverie
and hear the brutal and nasty wind
plaintively howling the song Molly Malone
her lilting voice distinctly heard
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

Meanwhile atavistic visitations hover
after hypnotizing mindscape
of twenty first century **** sapien
as flashback visions of proto humans
commingling with competing
short and nasty brutes
brushes within subconscious
purring, mew zing catacombs
jump/kick starting, harkening,
dawning lion eyes zing

thawing ordinarily dormant memories,
where forebears alive bajillion years ago
battle him of the republic
thumping their chests
and uttering primal sounds
against vastly outnumbered predators,
who make mincemeat of weakest warbler
similar to contemporary beastie boy punk bands
survival of the fittest
linkedin to anonymous

Monkey's Uncle recherché representatives
toehold barely latched
precarious niche easily
activated punctuated equilibrium evolutionary quirk
imperceptibly bumped uglies
begot robust progeny
offspring expanding comfort zones
penumbra expanding edge of night
dark shadows receding further
outer limits of twilight zone

phantasmagoric shifting shapes (hint...
think Plato's Republic in general –
and Allegory of the Caves in particular -
synonymous with Allegory of the Metals)
alluring, beckoning, daring...
establishing, foraging, growing...
harvesting, invoking, jabbering
kowtowing, livingsocial,
Ashley Madison matchmaking tinder (ha)...

now lemme zip forward
back to the future
bajillion years somewhere in time circa 1970's
British comedy troupe
nudge nudge wink wink,
say no more
know what I mean courtesy
Monty Python's Flying Circus
rollicking humorous sketches
oft times tackling primal urges
proto humans initially verbally grunted,

where guffawing laughter
rewarded survivalist basic instinct
temporarily staving rabid
quivering premonitions outside
creature comfort boundaries,
whereby Geico Caveman
will remain till... dis ember
by George thoroughly good appetizer,
viz good chilled Wren plus
Pheasant under glass
burns away hunger pangs.

heebie jeebies couple months before March 15th, 2020

More'n three hundred and sixty six days ago,
a pandemic did devastatingly blow
across the webbed wide world
dark shadows spelled glow
bull horror seeds of hell show
did terrify **** sapiens  
with unimaginable woe.

I revisited the following poem crafted last year
so little known about the when, why and where
concerning then Doomsday scenario unleashed
accept my humble apology if message unclear
giving reasonable rhyme details just threadbare

bard lacks scientific penchant I honestly swear
appalling attempt at writing trademark metered
poetic endeavor doth not lessen how ye revere
yours truly who would be amenable to answer
personal response, thus email me questionnaire.

Aye reckon eyes aforementioned microscopic organism
doth strain credulity threatening **** sapiens left agog
stupefied, whereby mortality of species existential crisis
pitted against unseen rapacious (non public) enemy glow

bull diabolic scourge plaguing world wide web humbling
**** sapiens arrogance, bombast, ecocentrism... fueling
outrageous mortal kombat concerning toilet tissue to stave
virulent pathogen wreak havoc across webbed wide world
immune systems entire bajillion complex edifices, (albeit -

biochemical, deoxyribonucleic, fantastical, helical, Judaic/
Christian, liturgical, neurophysiological, pathological, ollie
ollie oxen free radical, typical, virological, xylographical -
zoogeographical aerodynamical, critical, elliptical, genii
logical, ad nauseum) metaphorical house of straw knocked

(knick knack paddy whack...) upside the head obliterating
(one fell swoop) - fast as greased lightning defenceless ill
prepared immune systems rendering bipedal hominids law
n gevity (courtesy hiphop wordsmith Kanye West) basically
electric kool-aid acid test corroborating, galvanizing, plus

liberating riotous yawping, capitalistic, horrific, narcissistic...
aforementioned poetically licensed entitled germ cells, yours
truly suspects Mike rowed the boat ashore compromising rug
harding infecting taster's choice mortal human flesh, a fancy
feast inferred courtesy Sikh's six sense (mine), where spreads

trumpeting, kickstarting, and hooting virulent bugaboos flu -
went within ways and means of contaminating, infecting, and
orchestrating pandemic veritable microcosmic beastie boys foo
fighting (linkedin) twittering... figuratively and literally bring
***** simians to their knees (knobby in my case) maneuvering

offensive (salient parry and ******) undermining physical health
among village people (think - human league) field day nabbed
(dagnabit) vulnerability, susceptibility, and quintessentially awk
wiring advantageous edge, whereby wreaking havoc across avast
global swath temporarily forcing twenty first civilization braking

(fast) bringing living social muckraking and mudslinging species
(envision) bajillion people suddenly deprived of cherished helter
skelter hubbub devoid (car own nah fiat issued without warning)
mandating swarming multitudes against buzzfeeding capital one
good n plenti frenzied madcap lifestyles necessitating, quickening
uber vicissitudes (zero sum game) witnessed by level playing field.