He would have been an artist
but that being was now lost
hidden beneath the folds of fleshy strata
hanging like a neurosis, soft as adipose
lost under his belly.

He may have been a father
but that too was lost under
the pendulous judgement of
his blunted dreaming state.

He could have been a sculptor
an artist as they would have said,
instead he now whittles archaic
spoons with which to sup from
his sad bucolic dreams.

In between aspirations, as a hobby,
he runs his fat fingers through women's
hair, a round eyed
would be Taoist, wending prayers
through lost valleys.

And for a living he pins tails
on donkeys calls himself an eastern
practitioner. A Zen mystic .
An acupuncturist.

where am i?
how am I to write when
I am no different from
those gaseous ephemeral words
who lie prostrate upon
the pages of my dictionary
carved plainly into
those battlefields strewn across
the wartorn country
my heart the despotic dictator
whose primal drumming
carries no tune
and no rhythm
and throws of explosions
grenades that
black out the world for
a brief moment
until it careens back and
slams into me
disorientated

i should have been born twice
for how could i have
both my body and that
intangible inexplicable
something inside
it stirs at the molten core
of me
that chasm that forged
those graven images
that first gave way to
a pictographic language
and offered me
a voice
to explain that immutable
all powerful
urge
lust
to throw myself on that
red button and
detonate
burst into a million pieces
and finally relieve that
nauseating pressure
of adipose smushed between
holy bone and
saintly skin
interloping in that space
and separating two lovers

barriers create madness

walls box me in
and yet i grow
an expanding balloon girl
macy’s day parade and
candy littered streets
and razor sharp edges
to steel walls pressing harder
against me than
my supple skin could
ever possibly press
back

i can’t breathe

there is no room
for my lungs to expand
and feel the
fresh sun filled meadow
of crystal air
delivering oxygen to
starved alveoli
and i can’t find your chest
to guide me
in impossible respiration

i’m suffocating in my own skin
from no outside force
but my body itself
turns inward and
shouts its dominance at my
cowering self
sniveling in the corner
of my dusty half used heart
where no blade could possible
land a blow deep enough
to silence the torment and
particular personal poison
a torture to course through
every part of me
activating every single neuron
and making me
hyperaware of my
shame and noxious
venomous corpulence
a reality i
never wanted you to see
but is written plainly
in fiery script across my forehead
and in every fold of fat.

I want the hollow
Cheeks.
The full, adipose, smooth
Lips.
The white-*****,
Pearls she calls
Teeth.
I want the bright, clean,
Sun bleached
Hair.
The fine, sharpened,
Ready for scratching, Spotless
Nails.
The refined, sculpted,
Long, profiled
Nose.
I want gold to flake,
Off my ageing,
porous, dull,
Skin.
I want the protruding,
Famished, angled
Bones.
I want the pumping,
Arrhythmic
Heart.
The tired, hissing,
Tar coated, smoker’s
Lungs.
The round, fleshy,
Cellulite covered
***.
The motherly, but
Childless plump
*******.
I want the barren,
Bleeding, afflicted
******.
I want the faint,
Wispy, high-pitched,
Call that she calls a
Voice.
The bruised, bulging,
Porcelain polished, etched
Knuckles.
The wide, protruding,
Ballooned up, dangling
Hips.
The numb, heavy, metal
Flavored, gum bleeding
Mouth.
I want the skewed,
Backwards, lost
Pedals she calls
Feet.
I want the hearing less,
Wax, pus covered,
Ears.
The lost dull, lifeless
Dumbed down, blue
Eyes.
I want to be her,
All of them, and none.
I want to be lost,
Unwilling, tame, voiceless,
Mindless, childless,
Sexless, man-less.
I want to be her, but I
Can’t.
I cannot because I am
Thought burdened, fat,
Violent, screaming,
Child laden, broken nosed,
Coarse.
I cannot because dirt
Flakes off my young
Skin.
Because my heart pumps,
Oxygenated blood,
At a steady, rhythmic
Beat.
My voice baritones,
Deep, bottomless,
Whispers.
I sit on flat, concave
Muscle.
My lungs breathe,
Strong, fresh, smog-less
Air.
Yellow stained, grainy, calcium-ridden
Teeth.
Dark, musty, greased
Hair.
I want to be her,
But I won’t.

spiritless and well oiled,/ /suspended in a floating film of/ /in-animation./ /weighty./ /threaded./ /the rambling nature of death./ /a slow spring,/ /thick and viscous... seething out of layered cracks./ /veining out as a muddied road map./ /but it's the hard bits that hit you hard./ /fingernails./ /they picked scabs./ /peeled citrus./ /scratched and plucked./ /and/ /and teeth once white. eclipsed by gray./ /they smiled, they bit nervously on pencils./ /perhaps had work done./ /(maybe just a filling.)/ / what was kept solid with an inner structure- yet unraveled./ /ragged bones./ /reduced in years and yet remain/ /adipose in apodosis./ / shadowed mutely / / with whispers of those ragged bones./ /

i was just recently given the youtube link for my performance, so the live version from Louder Than A Bomb Massachusetts is here as well: http://youtu.be/TaVoQ9si4t8*

we are all disconnected
like rain lashing against the tongues of teenagers
who just want a taste of purity
deep in the battle trenches of the suburbs,
they're dancing in the storm
dancing, in parking garages and derelict strip malls,
empty streets fill with shaky feet
beating at fear like brush fires we can't stomp out

and after the sun sets the air tastes clean
and we breathe in time to the people sleeping in
gingerbread houses creeping up and down the cul de sac
battle wounds that drew blood eventually present themselves,
and sewer water seeping into parking lots as dry as a droughts...
but what we don't know is there, we don't ask any questions about

it's the little things...that are not the big issues
while we're chugging fluoride water bottled in adipose tissue
capitalism splitting at the seams with pyramid schemes
believing new clothes and big macs are a cure for low self esteem...
storing dreams in mcdonalds bags
we look away from the obvious problems
so as not to remind us...
we buy into these lies while we watch our lives pass us by
we're actually not that good at hiding our scars

so please say pharmaceutical...
and it sounds sort of like suicidal
a pill is a bit, a paycheck is a harness,
and your television is a bridle
fox news feasting on the population, brainwashing, whitewashing
suffocating education with hate and justification,
this nation has been sculpted by foolish politicians
so realize this before it's too late:
we are only hooked if we take the bate
waiting for tidal waves to rip up out of the ground
the whole world falling down like dominos
take a look at your own town
everyone is drowning in themselves

our fear of the truth is like putting hands in fires
limbs scorched unaware till we're up to our knuckles
crying fighting screams and watching fried up
dried up muscles go slack suddenly so tender so tired...
repeat after me:
our fires only hurt if we try to stomp them out
try to swallow them and burn our mouths
scream over each other like a pack of braying cattle all saying the same thing
the human race is it's own organism and it's dying...
we are knee deep in a civilization that has lost it's humanity
it's a legacy
to the same old ball and chain clamped around your legs
you do the man a favor and break yourself in his wake

in the age of the apocalypse of the pursuit of happiness
don't surrender yourself to complacency,
we are mechanics not machines
so don't be another agent of this age of conformity
don't self-destruct because it feels necessary
in order to survive in this society

don't allow yourself to hang on to memories like you can rewind time.
repeat after me:
we cannot rewind time.
it is time for this generation to live in the present
change the future for the better

happiness isn't something you can find in another beer...a thrift shop shelf...
in a lie you want so badly to believe...
my happiness is inside of me.

She lives in a figurative cube of lard
A clear turmoil tunnel channeled like
a river of boiling fat filled with shards
of shining glass shattering her flaccid
memory lacerates each emotion or
turn into adipose gluttony

I wear my heart on her terry cloth robe
the brain she was born with is the
***** on her clothes

There's a man in my head
He speaks to me in silence and in dreams
What he is, I do not know
But it doesn’t really matter

In the silence, he asks me
“What do you hear?”
I hear the hissing of the sand
Falling through the proverbial hourglass
Like a vaporous snake sifting through the silt
On the banks of an endless river
Like snowflake after snowflake
Caressing the ground with winter’s edifice of ice
Until everything is locked away, buried and frozen
I hear the ringing vibrations of subatomic particles
Ascending to crescendos and sinking
Into gentle diminuendos as electrons are exchanged
I hear the Earth trading momentum with the moon
As they rotate and revolve through the vacuum of the Universe
In a continuous gift before forever falling away
And leaving nothing behind but an empty ecliptic

“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“It hurts like hell.”
“How do you deal with it?”
“Sometimes I cant. Sometimes all I want to do is sleep.”

And in my dreams he asks
“What do you see?”
I see a cell growing and dividing
Into all the people that I know
I see their blood vessels transmuting into trees
And their arms folding into wings that
Carry them to heaven while stone shifts like water
Beneath them and the seas go dark
I see the Earth condensing out of asteroids
And being swallowed by the Sun
I watch inertia carry light and color along the tail of a comet
And into clouds of gas and dust that swirl in the vacuum
Of the Universe, like the stars of a galaxy
Crumbling into a black hole, down the drain of gravity
That bends superclusters into the blood vessels
Of a human eye, I see nothing and everything
I see life and death and the profound mystery of existence
Most of all, I see myself

“Does it scare you?”
“It’s ******* terrifying.”
“How do you cope?”
“Sometimes I cant. Sometimes all I want to do is die.”
“So why don’t you?”
“Because sometimes it’s so beautiful.”

And in my nightmares he asks me
“Why don’t you just end it all?”
“Because I’m afraid.”
“Don’t you want the suffering to be over?”
“I’m not so sure it will be.”

The only thing I know of death is the absence of life
Just like darkness is the absence of light
And I can’t fathom what that nothingness is
I can’t comprehend the absence of life

“Well, do you have a soul?”

Is all that I am a murmur of electricity?
A chemical reaction inside of some adipose?
Is there nothing in the darkness of my pupil
Or is there only the absence of light?
Is all that I am just a sequence of nucleotides
Transcripted and translated, again and again
For no reason other than the absence of chaos?
If that’s all that life is then how can there be peace in death?
Or is there only nothing?
The only thing I understand
Is that there's something more
That I can't understand

"Well, do you?"
“I don’t know.”
“Then what am I?”
“Something that exists in dreams.”
“Then what’s in a dream?”
“I don’t know, please go away.”
“I can’t go away. I will never go away.”

There’s a man in my head
He speaks to me in hatred and in bliss
And I don’t know who he is
Or if he even is
But he lives in the pit of my stomach
He lives in between the wrinkles around my eyes
And he is oh so curious about things that we aren’t meant to know
And he will never go away
But it doesn’t really matter

In the girdle of times stricken woes
Collected around a shank wholesome with girth
Hidden beneath the adipose tissue
Of many a feast, ale and tasteful dessert

Oh my

Seems like far back in yonder years
Sans worry sans problems sans regret
That the natural Adonis sinews
Gifted by the Creator
When we were granted our first breath

Were admonished as malnourished
Back in the day
Back in the day

Sugar is bad for you,
especially,
saccharine maple thoughts
that you cannot afford
due to the hazard
of overweight ego
dense with the aftertaste
of adipose fantasies
clogging the arterial bonds
that tether you
to solid ground

Stop the caramelized madness
from carbohydrating your soul
into victim obesity
causing the full
arrest of your spirit

The sweet is guilty,
distorted in mirrors,
a negative image
of a past feeling,
present reflection
born of the collision
of intentions and consequences

I miss the projectile of sexiness that emits
with your speech.
I miss the smile that seems
mixed with life in itself; just like your blood is, speaking of which;
I miss the shy blush in your astute composture,
it leaves me wondering how could she be so pure.
I miss the splendid rear view;
Where adipose seems to fight for rescue.
But the elasticity of skin
manages to keep it in.
I miss the organs beneath your brows that enable you see.
Bless them; as they contribute to your appreciation of the nothingness in me.
I miss the warmth of your skin & its smoothness;
I miss your slow motion like gentleness,
I miss that scarce prudence;
same ilk as an air bubble in a large body of water.
I miss your application of sweetness; an abstract knife that cuts through me like butter.
It is you that I miss.

Weak.
Weak is surrendering
To the alluring voice of chocolate
And devouring rice by the spoonful.
Weak.
Weak is.
Adipose dangling from your armpits
And jiggling thighs each step
Strong is
Perfection.
Inhaling ash and smoke while
The mortals simply gorge
Wispy arms and jutting ribs
Empty inside. Pills.
Strength is weakness.
Too weak to stand
Waking up from hunger pains
Blackened vision.
This is how you become perfect.

I'm your knight in shining armour
I'm your bane, your adipose
I'm the reason you're not happy
I'm your ****, your tuberose.

You're my shock, my half cooked omelette
You're my biscuit never picked
You're my very painful fracture
You're the fur ball cats have sicked.

He's the one you should be courting
He's the one that hides distaste
He's the martyr, self inflicted
He's the life that's gone to waste.

She's the one that smiles at no-one
She's the girl that lives alone
She's the happy, carefree songbird
She's the chocolate scoffing crone.

Count your blessings maid of plenty
Lucky that you've never cared
Comatose to squires, to gentry
That beating lump you've never shared.

The texture of the glass is rough with blemishes,
convex with swells of adipose tissue
and spotted with stray hairs.
The occasional splotchy flush
on the sallow complexion
is just enough to suggest life
but not in the right locations
to suggest beauty.
The glass sneers.
The glass snarls.
It takes handfuls of its dull, lanky hair
and yanks,
as if with one tug, the entire image could come to a screeching halt
like the break line on a train.
It's a hideous image,
but it doesn't frighten like a vision of a monster.
Instead,
it insights a painful tug in the chest cavity,
an ache,
a slow, throbbing pang
that lengthens with every glance.
Nothing feels quite as horrible
as the realization
that even if the glass breaks,
comes to the floor
and splinters,
shatters...
Its duplicate will still exist.
In me.

Therefore, the Lord himself will give them this sign: "A ****** will conceive and give birth to a son, and she will name him Immanuel." From this calami lapse, all of Patmia was refracted in the chromatics of Emmanuel, alluding to Isaiah as an infallible God of Salvation after having sent Sennacherib's mesnadas to his turn. His ministry came to be established along with all the soldiers who did not finally confront each other, but he came to support them from the waters that came from the eastern sea. The kingdom of Judah appeared in glory and solemnity anticipating seven centuries before the Mashiach came to the world of Israel. Hezekiah appears again after seven centuries in Patmia, to decline the fraternal help of Isaías, to save the collective quasi shipwreck in the mountains that would strike the edges of Patmia later after the conclusion of the battle, Etréstles intervening from where he entered the Hydors, as the sixfold brightest star of Aquarius of the Gulf of Skalá to protect all the landowners of the Oikodeomeo, litigating the swells of the sea that should refer to the synchronous beats of the Ruach Hakodesh. Etréstles entered the pointed mansards on the tops of the allotropic waves, carrying a scarlet ribbon in his right hand and in the other with an indigo hue when he swam he did not hold back from moaning for fear that the whole island might disappear, he deprecated while He floated imploring in Hellenic all the Prosas of Rhodes, thus leaving hanging on his neck the suffering of mercy that looked at him from the expectant shore, but the scarlet ribbon cried out for the Emmanuel who would be born among the cerulean granules, concomitant with the Mashiach that clung to him on the blue ribbon when a fragmented chroma emerged from the rib that divided the seven colors into fourteen, from where he propelled Etréstles over the calvaries of the water that prevented him from seeing how undaunted Saint John was reflected with his staff. The Vernardicidal ***** harassed the ministry of Isaiah who came to save Vernarth from the Hercules vortex, where everything will guide him with the conception of Vernarthian and Saint John the Apostle, with from afar they encouraged him saying: "Epoikodomeo" with the aim of building geomorphological waters of the Dam or blood of the Mashiach, forging, increasing wisdom and security to preserve and encode them with the Talmudic essences of Spirit / Pnevma that is the essence of the Messiah to make the ephemeral phase of Jesus with the prosopon of the fit in the primordial scale of Patmos, along with all those who entrusted their ministry to him. Isaiah stated that from a Maltona the Messiah will be born soon, the same one who has accompanied Vernarth throughout this journey par excellence from Judah when he sublimated the iconography of Saint John the Apostle on his return to his inheritance, thus the requiems said that Isaiah had been sawn. by Manasseh, indicating that his prophet's remains would gather on Patmos to materially reintegrate themselves before the panorama of any, beyond the scriptures, only the Pnevma prevailing, which ingratiated itself with the apocryphal papyri. The laws of the sea opposed the arms and chinstraps that Etréstles wore in the joints of each arm, creating with them psalms that indicated the presence of the divine mother of the Mashiach, with the divine contribution that embroiled the scriptures by the Psalms of Etréstles by besieging at once on the cusps of the waves, making use of the same phalanxes and of the Apsidas Manes with watery and ****** meddling by Sennacherib's troops, who by a narrow imbalance in the authorship of the debate segment on a defense that was with the angels, who had already slipped through the opening of the dying parapsychology, to enter the purging compass of the blanket with a Venerable who would speak to them in the first person about the lashes of the breakers enclosed in the annunciation of the Emmanuel that was going to radiate with his counterpart Jesus Christ in the scarlet and indigo Hydor of the Kosmous water compendium of all Patmia. The exegetes were all in their robes on the top of the mountain, they were all and at the same time, they were not. Isaiah wanted to predispose the messianic perception to unite the generous ends of the Majestic Tikun and the Gam zu Letová, so that the scarlet tekhelet itself merges with the chinstraps in the joints and Etréstles that came from the Seventh Cemetery of Messolonghi, to present them the chants of the seventh parapsychological regression of Vernarth's wounded hands that he could barely hold, having the Pisan Verses of Ezra Pound, agglutinated with the Psalms of Etréstles saying thus:

“Humiliate your vanity, You are nothing more than a dog beaten under the hail, just a swollen magpie in the fickle sun, half black, half white, and you can't even distinguish the wing from the tail. Humble your vanity, Petty is all your hatred nourished by falsehood. Humble your vanity, eager to destroy, greedy in charity. Humiliate your vanity, I tell you, humiliate it. But having done instead of doing nothing, this is not vanity. Having decency, called for an obtuse to open, having picked up a living tradition from the air or from a magnificent old eye calls it undefeated, this is not vanity. Here the error is everything in what was not done, everything in the shyness that hesitated ...

Etréstles answers with his Psalm:

"In the main, I attend to his voice that undresses small when they fall cliffs ...when the fierce sentinel hides the Xiphos from the evil ones who shield them inthe iniquity here on Patmos of his tongue-lashing sword that spills bitter blood,that she is thrown on famous vices of Pronoia and dry crops in the storehouse ...
with dormant grasses between lashes of hunger, thirst, and angry sleep.

This is where the Mashiach sleeps and does not lavish the drowsiness of the world! that he shoots and is not afraid of spitting a splendid Hercules cloaked with fullerides of necromancy and flashes of unsustainability in the bitter Pashkien eating the sores from the ferments of his hemlock fingers.

Who will be in the glory that calms his fingernails over the joy of Anubis? inquiring pustules of bolted injustices that stagnate in the
Sagittarius tongue flaring up trilingual on their own languages ...
If there is the blood that I can retain, it will be by submission with declined sphincters or not! seeing where everyone is without pressure or punishment of stuttering or fact that will never happen on a Patmian Reichstag, understanding that their voices
They are the proscenium of the Elohim containing the glory of the fallen when the periphery of the incisive tenebrosity are slices of the Vernarth Psalm, and of Rabbi Masoretic that shelters you when you sleep, however in a thousand years ...

I've been stragglers collecting extreme remains of immortal bones,
In invisible frames with the vanity of seven verses that escaped from my hands, thousands of them being built away from my Duoverse of love towards them atavistic ... almost become adopted children of Masoretic ignorance ... and in the confusion of the
Elohim translated into a genome after an open heart between the Alef and the Tav, between the arrow that serves as accommodation in her mind, unable to sleep if she is not there…! but high up where I can dwell, I see and I abide by being silenced in my vanity, seeing that nothing is mine and of those around me on the battlefield, who sublimate themselves by walking a lifetime on the side of my enemy wounded by the Dorus, and that I have never tried to take it off completely with slight iniquity, only avoiding zafrales and scrutiny in its search.

My vanity will perish undefeated but failed to revive itself with dazzles and sagites that pierce the saps in your children and mine, being poles of renewal of a Hoplite Raeder, cutting the thymus of the cattle and saying that their wounds are the same splendor of the Sagittae Parvulum, like Seraphim children prior to a hyperonym, fracturing sacred bravery that they enumerate him to lose himself in the numbering of infinity ...! As gladiator children, eternal infants and children of Zeus, also being Seraphim of Zeus and Cherubim who will make mustard its fragility, unstitching the time that it carves from the thyme trying to be the Kashmar "

From the eye of heaven, everything was supplied when Emmanuel himself, who was tried at the end of the battle of Patmia, was recognized. It was six o'clock in the afternoon when the omnipresent presence of Isaiah's interface antiphons was marked from where he would make them hold onto the mega Nazer as the offspring of the uncontrolled branch of his hyper parapsychology that expiated itself from the trunk of the descendants of Vernarth, alluding to to Wonthelimar as one of them who was on the wheel of Capricorn as an internal element of Hydor when it was made effective between the golden hands of Isaiah, with full genuflection enumerating from sinister to right the upright derivation of the Psalm of Etréstles with the Nazer, which is It would take refuge in the foundations of omission as a new shining principality, from where the light of the fifteen hundred years between the seventh heaven and space of this same inaugurating the stolon from where the angel Gabriel would make of all the natives of the Notsri of Nazareth the energy that surpass the masses of matter above the average of its brightness, implanting the Duoversal advance where the Mashiach. From Ofel will come the palmar remains with Marie de Vallés propitiating from the Notós or the South of the Mandragoron of Patmia, like a Bull of Concession of collective rights from Jerusalem with the remains of Isaiah in his living Status. The vernacular spirits of the Bethany journey were incarnated as the ruling planets, which would thus all be similar to Saturn, leaving all the rest with the same unrestricted semblance of cosmic materiality, with this transfer of Saturn's atmospheric outer pharaoh overshadowing all others. planets, under a stepped level towards the Messianic primogeniture, dislocating the vibrational levels above the primary embankment of the lithosphere, like a Qliphoth or shell of Saturn's debauchery when experiencing the bonds of emerging Christianization of the emotional state that made up this external preferential layer, of which of this genre they would create multi-natalist phases with the Qliphoth of the configuration of the vibratory cessation of the physical body of Patmos. In this way the seventieth Qliphoth or farfara of the compendium of exteriority and interiority would culminate, giving way to the Fos or light that would constitute the hybrid Greco-Hebraic componence on the braids that lowered from the Tekhelet of Etréstles when it levitated towards the Megaron, specifically the Naos that It would incite an end that just headed the engagement of the spaces that will be covered by the reviewing archetribe on the acroteria as the Lux of the beginning of the transfer of quantum of energy, which would begin to form the browbones and chin of Euclidean incidence in the cockades of Etréstles, by structuring itself in the cosmic rhythms of the tzitzit of its right hand, and in its left the Tallit that westernized all the supreme dogmas of eternalism, that carried a brand new covering of Áullos Kósmos with this mantle of hegemony, hanging from the tzitzit that would finally be the dragging ropes of the body of Etréstles to the cosmic ridge of Skalá. From a Genioglossal Muscle; where the Etréstles stimulation tendons were inserted, great impulses of language opened towards the pre-Adamic gates, radiating like wide puffs of the superior process that strangled the phraseologies that indicated error of omission, making everyone could conceive of each other before heading towards conversion, and to be able to aspire to the Naos from the Megarón. The most experienced used to expectorate and move sharply with their jaws when the membranes of this region fled from the tip or hyoglossal of their mouth, shuddering from its sublingual base when they saw that the Mashiach carried Etréstles half-dead from the sea, amid so many prosaic waves consuming him from a breath that was separated from it by a thin layer of adipose cell tissue, and by the Middle Septum towards the definitive Seventh Heaven of God, speaking to them of spaces that will be filled by the magnanimous who have reaped him from his Eternalism. This was neither more nor less than the protruding border of the Messiah speaking through those mouths with insignia of enunciation, and portents of words of reconversion.

my body is a hole
that is yet to be
carved
out
into your eyes i want to be ****** in
your palms and my sharp edges
can i make you bleed
can i make a mold for you
out of
my pain, my pain, my pain
i'm completely in
covered in flesh
come be my adipose
i'll empty you
out
skin be poked
from within
and giggles, bleak dimples
moon-eyed
the face is the outer space
dark. suffocating.
a graveyard of dead stars.
can we be bigger than what we are
can we suddenly stop to appear
hide
it's rampage
everywhere
i'm melting coming back frozen contaminated.
there's no fixing it

My poetic side COSMOFUNNEL
wordsmith thanks tumblr in his noggin
ofttimes triggering babbling brook
to swell after deluge
becoming stream of consciousness runnel
carving, gouging, and liquidating topography
qua zee mow toe natural formed tunnel.

Digitally remastered and revised
since original version rejected, thus
writer released,  purposely leaked,
and flooded mass media
courtesy the following
self branded watershed vaunted unabridged
sprawling questionable and deplorable
creation loosed upon unassuming readers.

Analogously linkedin with
once upon a time
one doodling dandy Yankee slender man,
whose yang upended, overshadowed,
and eclipsed mine yin,
nevertheless, now yours truly self anointed
as an elder statesman - ha
gifted with unwanted
inxs of abdominal adipose tissue
(attributed to agent provocateur of aging,

which affects my metabolism
and/or courtesy
unwanted side effect reaction
from one or more
of the eight medications
nurse practitioner
at Penn Psychiatric Center
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania location
Elizabeth Clark prescribes),
which gained weight foments tussle

a fight to the death, I can never win
and alternately titled: arm ugh gut tin
yours truly loathes to mensch shin
one alien looking pear shaped
humanoid with redskin
liposuction advised courtesy Doctor Quinn
(a fictional character and magician,
I took poetic license
created above to help eradicate body dysmorphia),
she waved her wand and ****
transformed me into a puffin.

Aye dread getting undressed
and/or getting washed
even without spectacles
thar haint no mo' six pack ab,
which nearly rock ribbed
mid equatorial zone shape shifted
into corpuscular blubbery
ancillary physiognomy
where aye wanna bab
bull posttraumatic stressed out

middle age battle of the bulge
in summer re: a waisted effort
squarely (er rather roundly) testing
the elasticity of extra large sweatpants,
when straining to hide expanding girth
definitely producing undesirable effect,
(especially when floating in briny deep,
I squarely, honestly and closely resemble
the Chinese brother
who swallowed the sea  

strongly urging, necessitating,
and exhorting mister crab
to clamp down with pincers,
viz primitive liposuction,
whence rustling scupper
will efface this fleshed out
human bloviated ruggedly handsome
man of the webbed wide world
a bit heavy around the equator
over self indulgent fleshpot

unable, uneager, unready,
and unwilling to maneuver
his portly ill proportioned body
inducing unprovoked stares,
and tears for fears
eyes tracking billowing supersize shirt
resembling trireme sails being trimmed,
where fleshly freighted sloop
displaces entire watery expanse
stranding, stinging and starving an a ray

of underwater species,
now prolonging requisite inhalation;
I seek desperate sticktoitiveness
guidance courtesy Younan Nowzaradan
with steely mettle
hie trite to iron out flab
thus tis part and parcel of senescence,
yet auxiliary buttressed dermis
effect forming gorged girth
giving "love handles" grab

reigniting reign of terror
viz prepubescent anorexia nervosa,
boot strapped now - wen
remembrance of things past frankly
zapped distorted self-image
evoked holocaust images repugnant;
buttery rolls of fat insta jab
stubborn thoughts of self-loathing
entice me to become a lab
bore a tory guinea pig/
scapegoat role to restore

prime of life build when five foot ten
obviously me no Lemuel Gulliver
alignment could now perchance nab
first place in a slick couture magazine
from the neck down,
cuz face mottled with
nine inch nails clawing skin
wrought unsightly scab
taut torso bearing
fashion model and
senior citizen idol, where
every place I go receiving
venue offers free tab.

To stand stock still until shutterfly
would SnapChat
rippled tummy, could
fill my hungry wallet with inxs of cash
now, aye haint so gorge ***,
WhatsApp with
faux pregnant protuberance,
though thankfully
derriere still rather dash
shing, which palmolive pilot sized buttocks

doth newt offset sorry to report
lost battle of the bulge,
where diet tribes furloughed in a flash
abandoning their respective stations,
gnome hatter sinusoidal
parabolic frontispiece finds me to gnash
my toothless mouth for lack of means
to stave of the depredations
of slump pin proletariat
allowing me a hash

sheesh priceline tag
with hefty weight, acquiescing
this Pillsbury doughboy blivet
to subject himself to the sharp
stings of a cool whip lash
bearing the snap against
raw skin as due process
and supplication for atlas shrug
gin his broad shoulders
at the fountainhead naming me mash
shew Scott in regard to oblate inflation
insulation fiberglass around midsection, and

how ma late mum
(an avid fan of doctor Carleton Fredericks,
who preceded Mehmet Oz), would quash
the love she showered on this sole heir -
resorting to exhaustive palliatives -
even ear rash
shun null gambits,
and as last ditch effort
putting this offspring
on par with an albatross -
vamoose get out with the trash
unless everything (pertaining to
indelible stubborn blubber
comes out at the whoosh she wash
Diet of worms.

she’s so ugly
oh my gosh look at her
my classmates whisper about the
girl who’s always late
i push my eyes into their
home-y sockets
all i see is black
and toned down speckled
neon blue blotches
looking like adipose tissue
mushing
keeping my sanity contained
cushioned
their voices fade out
the teacher’s does too
drowned out
black waves encapsulate
the scenery
and it’s beautiful
i flow with the tides of
the silent madness of the ocean
i peer out for more but no luck
no boats
no scrambling children by the shore
no kites
no dock.
there’s no escape

insync, especially with Amitiza delivered solid ecstasy

Without shadow of doubt
I feel much relief
though literally pooped out
attested courtesy following
(oft posted poem
written some years ago
in short self plagiarism),
where funhouse mirror

humorously distorts physique
disproportionately skinny or stout
as though plagued
with excess adipose tissue
in reality paunch throughout
abdominal area mine
self evident yours truly
generic guy does not work out.

As of early/mid afternoon
today - November 30th, 2021
I could not but barely move
mine whole body felt
analogous to sluggish mollusk
frequent constipation found me
doubled over in gastrointestinal agony
as if elephant or red (livid with rage)

I've re: created how bull
heaver in fiber ****** his tusk
into lower abdominal area dawn to dusk
ah...voila... hence subsequently
blessed natural laxative,
the magic of Daily Fiber
100% natural psyllium husk
also known as metamucil.

Upon sprinkling two doses powder pack,
which orange flavor sweetened
the missus mishmash pop slop
not aesthetically pleasing major drawback
heavy as a full coalsack
sometimes burned and scorched black
movement came swift, on par how fast
snaky Mister Plumber doth attack
obstructed ***** bowl.

Well now... monumental poetic challenge,
I now craftily abbreviate
(think clogged toilet synonymous with blockage) 
waste matter after days did accumulate
ready to apply corkerasp
regarding ****** blockage to alleviate.

Imagine impossible mission to defecate
which debilitating scenario mine accursed fate
frequently recurring more often as yours truly
i.e. latter day saint Matthew Scott got older
****** affliction compromised me
ordinary easy going demeanor
disallowing, disenabling, and not permitting
me - effecting, emulating, and exhaling
Tony the tiger's catchword grrrrrreat

if queried about my constitution
absolute ecstasy found me
expelling bowel movement
weighing approximately hundredweight
though relieved, nevertheless
the toilet bowl clogged,
correcting historical records
on two accounts despite
causing potential ruckus
disaster buffs may incriminate

nsync notion huge bowel movement
(mine) took down (analogous
voyage to bottom of sea) toto Lusitania
and actually additionally
caused separate incident
complex edifice (think Titanic)
both sturdy ships of state
former rendered
latter purportedly crashing
into iceberg me mate.

------------------------------------------------

Lemme explain the essence of a corkerasp

Whenever constipation a pain in the ***
just maneuver this lightweight
metal contrivance made of brass
no matter if anybody
considers this action crass

apply corkscrew motion up the
alimentary canal to remove waste
which most likely will be
thick like petrified paste
stuck deep inside bowels of the
sphincter muscles and solidly encased

causing severe cramps within
lower gastrointestinal tract
inducing one to wince nonstop
from being with ***** matter packed
and no amount of primal groaning
doth loose this hard fact

nor does imagery of freed ****
ease the **** plight
no laughing matter despite how absurd
squeezing does nothing even
applying all inner might

thus necessary to incorporate
unnatural intervention to unclog
****** blockage + uncomfortable bloating
swelling **** the size of a hog
disabling barely any ease to stand let alone jog
yet tis essential per extricating what
feels like one swallow a log
lest epitaph induce impossible eulogy
unless spoken the language of Prague.

Every ounce of effort
required to bend
over gingerly affixing
plunger end of device
to business rear end
best accompanied with close
companion or friend
since ***** deed done dirt
cheap trick will ideally rend
rock solid excrement to roll
and crashing sound send

upon the bathroom floor
possibly inducing seismic
waves less or more
whereby toilet bowl water will pour
over the sides akin to
white caps near sea shore
without doubt making
gluteus maximus extremely sore.

Something sweet left on the bedside table,
not within arm's reach, but I stretched anyways-
adipose weight alliterated against the sheet,
pectoral garage grunge sounds because the sand
is still puckered in my eyes which adjust
to the helix of light over time;

light, like lavender talc branched in.
My wrist flinched from the cold metal ****
of a compartment under the chestnut top
with papers spread expeditiously.
With my hand scampering for a sign
I splintered the squeak of a rickshaw.

A shy crow pretended to dodge a bullet outside the window;
right thumb still wasn't ready to draw the pattern
that unlocks my phone, but we do things
when we wake up and look beside ourselves
for warmth. We hadn't exchanged numbers,
but you'd left yours in a text, with an invitingly pale font.

Your lips left perfumed migraines where you kissed me,
but that's a good thing.

Our 2 ***** are exactly the same size except yours is a meter wider,
which means that it's hard to sit ***-to-*** on granny's porch glider
I changed my internationally-intriguing life for dog-faced espionage
before I metabolically met you in a bug house high on airplane glue
while there is a Nigerian-vaccine-polio surge, which is nothing new
to Germans who are mean, 'cause they killed everyone 75 years ago
as Austria's economy sped up fueled from by hobs of hell far below
the chalky mass that deals from the bottom of the red-hot-hell show
that offers up a 2-for-1 punch to the thyroid to ****-tramps on the go
who lay about lying about the dodgy stamina of their fire-hose flow
flowing accommodatingly over Earth's sea curve that boat-men row
through the *****-preserved adipose **** tissue of Edgar Allan Poe
You may wring my neck till I die & I won't cry Princess Crystalline
You may wring my neck until I die & I will not cry Queen Caroline
Please wring my neck while I eat pie, for I shan't die nurse Caroline
You can wring my neck while I eat pie for I'll not die nurse Adeline
You might twist this neck after breaking my spine queen concubine

You may wring my neck till I die & I won't cry Princess Crystalline
You may wring my neck until I die & I will not cry Queen Caroline
Please wring my neck while I eat pie, for I shan't die nurse Caroline
You can wring my neck while I eat pie for I'll not die nurse Adeline
You might twist this neck after breaking my spine queen concubine

When a boy,
I wanted to be as tall as my father
(he passed away October seventh
two thousand and twenty
linkedin to congestive heart failure),
who stood at his prime
about six feet and two inches
and tipped the scales
close to two hundred pounds.

Teachers and other familiar adults
chimed in that though diminutive
(yours truly, he unwittingly offered himself
as the ideal scapegoat
courtesy being longitudinally challenged,
weighing no more than an ostrich feather,
and hashtagged as "the quietest student,"
a flower child of the ninety sixties
always kept mum every single day of school),
would unexpectedly experience
peak height velocity.

Neither at ages eighteen, nineteen, twenty...
sixty three, sixty four and sixty five
bore witness to any added inches,
which topped out
around my sixteenth birthday
approximately seventy inches tall
and attendant weight a scrawny
one hundred and
twenty five pounds or thereabouts.

Actually since graduating
from Methacton High School
two score and seven years ago,
my weight ballooned
an avoirdupois unit of weight
divided into 16 ounces,
and equal to 0.453 592 kilograms
approximately forty plus times
such said constituent parts
first thing in the morning
after eliminating evacuating
re:excreting ****** waste.

A preponderance of adipose tissue
long since upended my once upon a time
twenty nine inch waist.

Slab of flab protrudes from ab - feel free to grab!

What follows initially written
quite some years ago
when being skinny as a rail meant
no meat on these lovely bones,
thus hired myself out as scared crow,
now excess adipose tissue thy foe
losing battle partially explaining
why knight spends inordinate
amount of time in his grotto.

Twas an incremental
subtle expansion of waist
plus olympic challenge to tie shoes
most likely side effects of one
or all nine prescription medications
to stave off severe melancholy,
social anxiety, panic attack, et cetera
when yours truly merely
prepubescent self starvation courtesy
emaciated Anorexic skeletal ribcage

traced (about two score
and a baker's dozen years ago),
now whereby most everything
thy tongue doth taste
immediately delivered
a randy (new man) paunch
to former washboard six pack
smooth as a fresh application
of gesso like paste
readying fleshy canvass

for partially ****
self-portrait masterpiece
(adjacent to barenaked lady)
lived three doors down
depicting mine once perfectly,
(albeit one scrawny lad)
proportioned body electric laced
with flat as a washboard physique
unlike present disk graced
whereat when sending a photograph

of shirtless self-try with futility
utilizing photoshop to get erased
displeasing equatorial zone of anatomy
saddled with unwanted
fatty tissue that defaced
proportionate rock hard stomach
one generic measly slender adult man
about five foot and ten-inch build
evincing an aura of being chaste
gone forever analogous to temptation

gobbling house constructed
of cake and confectionery,
that nearly did likewise
to Hansel and Gretel
readying their not quite
plump enough bodies
tubby slathered with baste,
yet just in the nick of time
the two abandoned minors
actually removed courtesy

children, youth and
family services (CYS)
under care of adoption in sync
with ***** work
aced the sinister plot outwitting
cannibalistic cackling
croaking old woman
inducing all to break out into song -
singing the following tune
I learned in grade school.

Loose air into pipes and croon
solo loud enough audible to man in the moon.

Sarasponda, sarasponda, sarasponda rat tat tat
Sarasponda, sarasponda, sarasponda rat tat tat
A doray-oh, A doray-boomday-oh
A doray-boomday ret set set
Ah say pah say oh.

Absolute zero escape
velocity guts dance
sing days (contra and square),
cuz metabolic full abundance
abdominal adipose tissue acceptance
not in accordance
with light as a feather

miss lost acquaintance
the boy within forced admittance
as sure man tanks of fat did advance
shotgun marriage demanded allegiance
to pledge lifetime alliance
no room for allowance
crushing lightness of being ambiance

nor allies to help me combat
battle fatigue require
ring superman endurance
to muster strength
to stand ***** else ambulance
will whisk away husky
embarrassing appearance

loose fitting clothing
jelly roll appurtenance
overnight digital readout,
asper body mass index
scaled quick ascendance,
thus when showering,
I look askance

fearing bulging balloon
will necessitate assistance
else... diet of worms
as only assurance
safeguarding body electric
against hecklers at open casket
no matter, a small perchance

crowd in attendance
yea... eventual cremation
after life only fat chance
to alleviate present circumstance
heavy matter fails security clearance
the price for astute cognizance
weak willpower alighting countenance

esse pie ying sweet treats
now measures taken to counterbalance
to fight temptation and dalliance
overruling feasting craving delectation
to restore trim deliverance
love handles around equator
no magician can render disappearance

yes the discontinuance
of just dessert must maintain distance
without being weighed
down with disturbance
by heaviest haunch
ain't no elegance
lugging extra encumbrance

when throughout my early life,
skinny, yet able to steel glance
mirrored reflection now grievance,
where wistful memory
ha...ironic insouciance
more so than
today finds intolerance,

thus woebegone issuance
thorn in muss hide
to experience jubilance
hmm...maybe a strong
arm can lance
excess flab quite a nuisance
to defy gravity, why penance

sans unsightly paunch
yours truly laments skin
tight fit, thus petulance
lame excuse unwanted protuberance
necessitates dedicated pursuance
recollection of washboard
abdomen impossible, yes

nothing accomplished by remonstrance
thus prerogative to stomach liposuction
scalpel in hand watching youtube video
summoning gut wrenching
moment to activate incision
to rid yours truly of belly aching
once and for all.

I adopt dainty etiquette
when quenching thirst or dining
to buzzfeed growling beast
inside me tummy.

The missus requests obedience
raising both my little fingers in the air
upon taking beverage or repast to lips.

Additionally, she also requires I
(well healed husband who toes the line)
perform dance shuffle - think clog
feigning to trip over feet
as if yours truly quaffed to much grog
while balancing atop log.

Miss iz manners re: lee the spouse
sets prime example being lady like,
what with her belching and snorting
of course with mouthful of food
no surprise she nurtured impolite brood
raised on learning language crude

even this Geico caveman exhibits
less coarse attitude,
he likens himself to subdued dude
trying his darnedest (golly gee)
to avoid family feud

general behavior hashtagged as rude
linkedin with antics qualified as lewd
encouraged nsync while
slurping or masticating in the ****,
whereby other body sounds made
unsuitable for strait laced and *****

folks who don't take a fancy hearing
so called uncouth soundclouds exude
out body orifices considered foul,
inapropos and extremely lewd
when unless quarantined in solitude.

One upside of COVID-19
postprandial aural emanations
(all time favorite flatulence)
knows no outward bounds
unless colorectal explosions
register highest magnitude

when measured in concert
with handy dandy
blues clues rattle seismometer
and register courtesy
Richter Scale and the Mercalli Scale
direction and intensity of earthquakes.

Upon experiencing aforementioned prime mate
i.e. the bellowing gal offering herself as ahem
(pardon the double entendre) master bait,
I knew from the get go
Tex-Mex Connection

in North Wales, Pennsylvania
where we shared our first date
(outsize bean burritos)
I tooted my own horn,
she unwittingly got me into checkmate,
just for that her fate got sealed,

when our respective gametes
(ova and ***** cells respectively)
new life we did miraculously create
the first of two female offspring
would become housed in utero
and come to resemble

a spheroid somewhat oblate
even now unnamed counterpart,
(and partner in crime) still swell person
hook hood benefit to lose some weight,
cuz... well adipose freight
quite ample around equator.

drawn courtesy lots of byte size chalk.

When e'er I summon fat chance
to empower me self with courage
and steal a passing glance
in the mirror then instantaneously
hairline fractures appear
than 'afore long
snap, crackle, pop
becomes crystal clear,
whence aluminium glass mirror
(made of a float glass
incorporating additional processes)

leaves highly reflective
fractured surface patina 'ere
one narcissistic blackened barbed ken
whiles away countless hours
unseeingly preening, primping, and pruning
e'en the slightest glare
ring blemish finds cause
for cosmetic surgery
(namely liposuction)
evincing ghostly interlinear
crows feet and dark

circular "bags" that distinctly leer,
which medical term for skin folds
and ballotable skin edema
described as “festoon,”
or “malar mound,”
an eye sore overclear
demanding grotesque immediate
dermatological action
(if necessary) taking
extra adipose tissue from rear

end supposed extra junk in the trunk,
where moon a fish scent derrière,
would not be unduly sore,
perhaps requiring
(whatever would suture self)
plus donning extra padded underwear,
which subjugation voluntarily
"going under the knife,"
would stave off depredations aging
(such as puffy eyes)
at least for another year.

Until the end date regarding
mine cessation, damnation,
glorification -ha time on Earth
(hammered into crucifix
courtesy nine inch – rusty - nails)
my changed body morphology
particularly around equatorial girth
unwanted layers of flab allow, enable,
and provide me to burn wicked fat
these cold winter days and nights
serving yours truly as built in hearth.

Incremental corporeal essence, here
to forge i.e. figurative spear
tire of mine, doth elicit despair
daily appall, thus I air
part tickle laurel lei objection
able bane, cuz this tear
rubble flabbiness a glare
ring anatomical feature, I swear

shape shifted into a dare
ring ridge hubble unsightly
bulge ballooning mere
lee (just south of Montana) so clear
lee obscuring belly button – an innie , where
former washboard abdomen veer
hilly subsumed by displeasing scare
really hated love handles glare

ring paunches noticeable, especially
when abdomen bare
adduce, deed hoos, and
reed hoos sing the culprit bing
one or more beneficial
pharmacological prescription medications
eliminating debilitating crippling panic attacks,
albeit re: fashioning
now alien metabolism, but

necessary medications giving
immeasurable *** bull heaving
relief to this generally
autobiographical, comical, ecological,
grammatical, illogical, kinematical,
methodical, (parenthetical), rhetorical,
theoretical, vertical and  
xylographical off the old block  
exhibiting joyus rapture, where
psychological state contra dancing,
jitterbugging (a slight bit of hyperbole,
where I tango with) kickstarting

long overdue ability
to experience living
social shorn of paralyzing anxiety,
yes every now and again
isolated heated flare ups making
stellar cameo appearance, asper
rendering literal "NON
FAKE" pennilessness,

and non seek quit tore ring
excessive (no pun hush meant intended -
heavy handed) perspiration,
but generally "speaking" quieting
reductio ad absurdum unbearable
woebegone raging against the machine
adrenaline hellishly riotous smiting
body electric non verbally remonstrating

condemning indescribable torturing
poisoning relentlessly (like
stinging scorpions) upending
many prime decades vice wrenching
yoking ambivalence kamikaze
nose diving worthlessness toward
total mortal re: suicidal bombing mission.

diploma acquired magna *** laude – double entendre

Xlv years elapsed since
I (former long haired pencil necked geek)
bid alma mater adieu,
the quietest kid, who never said boo
nobody discerned handy dandy blues clue
what yours truly thought,
cause figurative blanks he drew
remaining quiet as a Unitarian church mouse
never uttered a dog gone peep
extrovertedness he did eschew
even now two score and five years

after donning mortarboard and gown few
and far between words spoken
courtesy me, a former
Norwegian bachelor farmer
Lake Wobegon mine imaginary home
solely without friends grew
impulse to become linkedin
through schizoid personality disorder
offered solitary existence
alone within emotional wilderness hue

cannot imagine loneliness
(analogous to be bajillion miles
from nearest neighbor
while housed within igloo
mattered not whether gentile or Jew)
at tender growing up age obliviousness
suffused every cell constituting
Matthew Scott Harris
interestingly enough yours
truly quite outspoken

thru dimpled cheeky
adipose characterized kazoo
flatulence courtesy pop slop
incorporating secret ingredient
intended to ward off licentious
pheromone exuding females loo
sing hormonal secretions,
anyway said unmentioned
quite tolerant spouse,
(who remained faithfully

married enduring quarter century)
despite incessant husband
buttuck blasting - courtesy moo
ving odoriferous soundcloud waves
issuing *** him tote across avast spatial plane
resultant impact on par with nu
cull lee air fallout ooh
noxious human air pollution pu
tress hint smell as natural deterrent
to ****** reproduction, nevertheless
***** aligned (alphabetically

by athletic prowess) think queue
able, eager ready and willing to
increase chromosomal revenue
blaring semper fidelis
as lucky ***** pierces zona pellucida
wee acted ***** yule us,
when call of the wild – bald truth
found me to ******* and spew
sticky goo, and stopped reproducing
after daughter number two
me unbiased, but both offspring
attractive in their papa's view.