literary food for thought.
Self Mutilation
(ah bet thar iz an app for that!)
within unlit partial "FAKE abattoir"
   sans wardrobe alcove
   where dust bunnies didst allures
completing a simple task among
   my never ending (Matthew's) list
   of domestic chores

this undertaking engaged
   thankfully while completely clothed,
   and scrounging on all fours
nonchalantly picking up scattered detritus
   including food crumbs

   potential critters hors d'oeuvres
the spouse (ideally seated
   on this same swivel chair
   dashing off these lines

   linkedin with this Macbook Pro) -
   housing at least four scores
of word documents, she espied
   the cheeky opportunity
   that triggered many wars

within arms length the taut outline
   of me 'lil derriere - re: rear end
temporarily dormant versus
   when flatulence roars -

   posterior flank hie
   could not de fend
she playfully poked her finger
   that didst dis send
   within close vicinity of sphincter,
   where ****** turgid business height tend

(most likely this husband not alone
   getting ***** twerked) inn me own coal
less cents great movements got made
   jabbing ma *******

   while i happened
   to be "blindly" groping
   upon darkly cutout cubby hole
i.e. without wearing bifocals/ spectacles -

   envision a human mole
thus amply qualified her role
to be literal and figurative
   pain in the *** vole,

where much to my horror a flash
of red hot poker blind
   momentary rage, did lash
out at me, when aye espied

   a kitchen knife and acted rash
(how cutlery got in closet floor
   a minor mystery
   and potential topic de jure

   for another poem)
   to brandish sharp edge
   around abdominal area
grabbed handle with left hand,
   thence commenced to slash

rhythmically thwacking
   wrist of right hand
then quickly dropped sharp implement
(as like a man momentarily possessed)
   before rendering permanent harm
   with a river of blood to wash.

Childhood Campy Chimera Curtain Call

Arctic bitter dead of winter cold
polar vortex deep freezes each lovely bone
excellent existential prized memory
swimmingly recalls boyhood

listening to drone
of various and sundry
en deer ring fauna
extant amidst greensward,

where imagination hath flown
to imaginary Eden lifting
uber a maize zing ears
cocked towards
Mother Nature's petsmart crafted chorus

flushing out soundcloud
queen of happy campers
with bees zee winged
wonders as they hone

suite tracks unstinting
well crafted aural presentations
intended to entice
a mate opposite jejune

targeting their search
nsync with one or another
favorable counterpart, this buzz zing
destiny could favor a loon

or some other apropos biological entity
(or perchance if desperate to mate) **** sitter
another species including the manifestation
of microbes on the moon

whereat boys and girls bounding,
exclaiming, and yelping
joie de vivre asper when counselors
blow whistle call at high noon
hour of day iz lunch, thence resuming
their made up fun and par lore games
such as knight in shining armor
dashing off to save

damsel in distress signaling
sans SOS and favorite ring tone tune
of potential prince
where young love doth Flickr
oblivious to a similar situation, aye lichen
to avast Marcy's playground

such panoply a prediction
forecast by Doctor Punxatawney Phil
a blue oyster cult meme burr
thus, in lay person terms
six more weeks of winter for 2018 -

so stay warm to stave off feeling offal
bodes ill for species who clamor for warmth -
supposed tell tale shadow
spelt "N+I+L+L"
and remain in hibernation
if opportunities allow,
and be thankful for not bing forced to mill
around seeking warmth
(case in point a street person),

but ye and the big or 'lil
body of warm flesh adjacent to thee
(this day and age -
gender preference a moot factor),

or take stock, stock and barrel,
how other creatures great and small
burrow underground under a hill
or reef amphibians, mammals, reptiles...

instinct can remain 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea
a fictitious place evoked by Jules Verne,...
hm...maybe he might breathe
courtesy of an atavistic gill
who would downplay brouhaha
to avoid any cavil.

prior to passing thru ******, buck naked bare
this grandson of Aaron, the sole heir –
   foreshortened to Sol Aire
evinced (as shown via ultra sound),

   which at birth became crystal clear,
   an obsessive compulsive prone
   human being, endear
ringly cute as a baby monkey possessed fear
some countenance tipping the scales needled gear

greater or lesser than seven pounds
   (minus or plus a few ounces)
   with a mass of dreaklocked hair,
otherwise a gangly sack of many a lovely bone,
   whereat obstetricians
   could not help himself but jeer

thus upon exiting birth cana;
   found him twirling loose
   ***** follicular fibers accord
ding to medical records,
   a combination of his being bored

(with a really lee super strong arm penchant)
   to sport dreadlocks, tough as hemp cord
an anomaly, which no app could com pare,
   boot nonetheless highly adored

resembling inimitable indestructible filaments,
   when taut could lift off the ground a board
dillow, which no reference manual could address
even topnotch experts queried, could not explain

   outrageous constituent rare
lee if never seen before, though still insured,
a novel boot nada so critical freak of nature ma lord
hirsute component part in a triple tier moored
substantial pressure upon the head,

entwining, looping, spilling somehow
   interweaving umbilical cord
into a mass of whirled wide webbed wear suitable for
four seasons, which bamboozled,

grew like Kudzu into
   an immense globular mass galore
('bout the size of Rhose Island) after one year ****
more, and wove in part from stem cell threads, nor
ceased proliferating after birth placenta
   accrued intact and immediately put in cold store

room, a by very peculiar product
   tinged with strands of blond hair
evoking how lioness would  roar
coccooning, contriving,
   and conveying this tiny dude

   into a self concocted
   hermetically sealed giant spore
miniature mummy, who without doubt
   looked like a lady bug hide entombment
   able to survive thermonuclear war
   as a minor subsequent repercussion

the downy side understood, impeterable forest
filched countless growing years, without jest
ting, when figurative messed
hair em scare em bedlam reigned as a supreme nest
sans shrieking obsessed invisible hoodlums
   broke free their electric kool aid acid test

from maximum security solitary confinement in vest  
ment for naught (busting andirons weighing down
  with reinforced steel trapdoor cladding
   didst not bar compulsive
   banshee like imps of thee pervert,
   but merely slow down

   miniscule limbs emulated a hitch hiker thumb
   upon will could assume the Alaska Bull Worm sized
   Albatross shaped achorage)
unsinkable (short term)
   screaming, rebelling, quaking,
atomic sized banshee beastie boys
   et cetera with fiery zest.

Standing In The Abaft In Front Of The Commodore's Cabin,
I Look Back Towards The Towed Wooden Raft Floating,
And I Am Smiling To Myself After Remembering,
How The Angel Was found, Liberated & Lost.
Yes, Sadly, She Went Away, Never To Return,
Probably Her World Was Way Too Cherishable,
And Comparing To Her World I Was So Perishable,
Now I Have Learnt That Angels Are So Very Unnatural.

There's a cat with a grin.
Wicked as sin.
So it doth vanish into thin air.
Just a big grin dangling there.

In the realms of Alice.
Red queen stirring malice.
Off with her head so the red queen said.

And the dormouse slept in the tea ***.
Stewing quietly.
The tea's too hot.
The fella with ****** hats.
Doffs them to the lords and ladies.
Shady character for sure.
He sips from the saucer he chucks.
Off with the queens head.
A lucky shot.
He runs and hides.
Makes a keen escape.

Alice holds him tight under her apron.
White bunny grabs them.
Up through the hole they go.
White rabbit, Mad Hatter and Alice as you know.
Scarpered along the river bank.
Sat on a rug for a minute or two.
Toes in the water.

In the house on the hill.
Daddy waits for his daughter.
She's in the garden.
She strolls back indoors.
Bunny's chucked back in his hutch.
Mad hatter is sat back on the window sill.
The looking glass beckons sweet Alice back in still.
She's had enough fun for one day.
(c)LIVVI

As dawn came you went away,
As I watch the most beautiful sunset,
I wonder how it could have been
More beautiful if I was watching it with you.