I'm not funny and I'm not a poet
I'm obsessed with rejection
Just be yourself, they always say
When I am myself the entire human race runs screaming
from the sight sound and smell of me.

Great
the very Last thing you should do is look Needy

now explain to me how do you disguise need when you are
S
T
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G

T
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D
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T
H

Here's an idea - accept rejection!! Own your self-loathing
you brought it on yourself after all so Use It!
"You're just a baby."
****, if I were a baby it'd be over fast

The hurricane winds are a bore
When they’ve been pushing you around
For two-thirds of a century
There’s nothing surprising about what torsion can do:
I know, I know,
It’s real but it’s all in your head, both at once,
Your collarbone is at 227 degrees toward Polaris
And meanwhile your left hip is rotating in a
Hyperskewed dimension only plottable with
Imaginary numbers, which is a problem
For peristaltic functions dependent on
Newtonian mechanics – sigh, shiver, burp,
Keep your awareness don’t fall over
BORING.
You’ve been on orange alert since Ike.

Let’s run down the repertoire of available distractions.
Jokiness? Sometimes worked in small
Person-to-person settings (you see the current problem)
But amazingly hard to pull off in text;
Mentally mugging the innocent online?
Leaves a bad taste.
Obliterating lust? Seems to have annihilated itself
Except in pain-in-the-*** dreams, the actually-asleep kind.
Guitar, or similar toys? Only fun as long as you keep finding
Novelty – which turns into, you know, work.

Drowning your mind in other people’s stuff?
This is the scary part.
Sometimes, still, for a little while; but never for long;
Not the freshest, not the most age-old time-tested brilliance;
Metaphors fall apart – the plot devices cannot hold -
You blink twice and the wind’s whipped the page out of your grip
And twisted your neck down up inside your ******* again.

So blowblowblowblowblow, babybrainballoons,
And Crack Your Cheeks,
Coz the only shred of hope is that if we all keep
Caterwauling our pissant poetic brains out at maximum vocal volume
Preamped and reverbed by global satellite systems to some
Unpredictable transhuman force it might eventually
OutShout the drone of Earth’s idiotic entropy
Kuz krist I’m bored of standing up in the wind

I have decided to write a poem consisting of hippy happy nonsense syllables
Like bunnies hopping about a field of various grasses with only an occasional poison sumac
The erratic highly entertaining motion would be illustrated by fascinating word play
Of both a phonic, or punning and a multiple-meaning, or semantic kind
Meant to dazzle the reader with the interplay of my mopping morphs and mowing semes
(That was a Shakespearean reference chucko)
And produce a nearly–lysergic storm in the grateful consumer’s contented cortex.
But since in actual fact I’ve got zero of any of this to offer,
And want nothing more but to lie back down and resume reading escapist literature,
I’ll leave this **** on the screen instead.
Who are you to judge me – the Pope?

My husband thinks he's:
a) adequate for any woman needs
b) some sort of genius in the saddle
c) God of England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and France

2. If I had my way I'd have:
a) bigger jewelry coffers
b) more closet space
c) a larger cell

3. If you tell your husband you have a headache tonight, he'll probably:
a) look awkward and change the subject
b) stifle a fit of laughter
c) offer to cure it immediately

4. On your wedding night, you thought about:
a) How much smaller he was than Thomas Howard
b) How much hairier he was than Thomas Wyatt
c) How much longer you could go without inhaling

5. You prefer your hats:
a) of red velvet
b) with long plumes and a circlet of pearls
c) at least eight inches above your shoulders

6. To satisfy your husband's craving for a male heir, you would give:
a) Saxe-Coburg and Gotha
b) the blood of a hundred newborns to Satan in a silver chalice
c) listen I'm number six and he can bite me

Back over on YouTube, the FermiLab guy says that what we can see about
The underlying geometric structure of the universe says it’s perfectly flat –
Which he says is PROOF that it’s curved and infinite, because only a tiny section
Of a really immense curved surface would look flat. It couldn’t really be that.
Eye ee, flat.
Of course somebody paid him to say that. If FermiLab said “Turtles” at this point,
Most of us would go with it

Oh my but it's good some time
to lay out and let flesh do what it wants without
prodding or interference - while you're elsewhere -
blink, scratch, wake up and
look around, asking yourself

what were those feebs fulminating about?

addendum much later after tea:
Resignation is definitely not the
most popular public position one can adopt anymore nowadays
But if you, personally, are one of those
who have officially and once and for all decided to
Live Forever -
Citizen, good luck and give'm my regards.

The City of Brass,
you can still hear it calling....
one last click - then another -
silence.....long, long......
then one more, almost muffled by the tons of sand