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annh May 2019
my
words
follow
me
home
-
bouquets
and
brickbats
-
to
collect
at­
my
door

Or break my windows.

‘I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Alone within my emotional wilderness

A reverie along memory lane when, this lviii sea sunned
row man (stills paddles in oarlocks and serenely quizzically,
lackadaisically, and harmoniously drifts) along the slip
stream of time. Awash on his figurative manual navigated
opportunistic prideful quintessential schooner reflects,
regales, and revisits ebbing lapsed instances (fast receding
into the past time, when psychological instability grounded
fragile my self esteem (generated venting, steaming, and
piping hot brickbats). As a newly minted harrumphing,
grubbing, and floundering dada enmeshment (analogous
to a fish caught in a net, hence quickly ricocheting, rabidly
splashing, and sloppily thrashing) predicated my foray
into das fatherhood. Aye experienced nearest approximation
Bing battered, rammed, and torpedoed from glomming
(par for the course riot ting heaps) necessarily imposed
adult responsibility. Such metaphorical motoring across
avast Battle Creek with no landfall in sight, this then nada
so Grand Turk (key in the straw) Otto man continually
snapped, cracked and popped. This human ping-pong
fitbit part player papa felt akin to subjection re: thralldom).
At this juncture in me cross currents of existence I can
harken back to those most exhausting, fatiguing, and
grueling endeavors. Hindsight offers this aging baby
boomer the luxury to cast astern. Retrospective leisurely
trawls along the shoals throes of fatherhood allow,
enable and provide and opportunity to scrutinize per
chance, where arises this on account of the empty nest
syndrome. Ordinarily the wife (i.e. missus to appear
more formal), would caw out my name nonstop….
”Matt”…”Matt”…”Matt”…, but she opted to organize
the cluster of assorted household items at the apart
ment (located in Crum Lynne – Ridley Township),
we hope to move within a fortnight. Thy spouse
volunteered her own mini reprieve by setting order
to the miscellaneous fixings gradually amassed,
appropriated, and gifted thru out the twenty plus
years of marriage, which hodgepodge of personal
possessions downsized whence circumstance dictates
evaluating goods having keepsake meaning versus
anomaly of belongings to be unloaded, repurposed
for someone else, or ordained as unworthy to schlep.
Alone asper like a very brief sabbatical from marriage
finds stillness amidst the white noise of the whirring
fan. Thus, I sit here ruminating how to dredge up
some idea for a poem,  (non) fiction or essay. This
husband became acclimated, conditioned, and em
bossed with a mate a tete for two plus decades,
whereby both thee dos delightful daughters on
Track 742 heading west. Honest to dog, I miss
the role of fatherhood when either off spring
(with an age difference of approximately twenty
five plus months) romped, scampered, and trotted
as toddlers, and upon childhood, thy little girls
found exultant excitement dashing higgledy-
piggledy, hither and yon, to and fro across the
playground as most glorious human indulgence.
Despite the plaintive wail vis a vis Juliet saying
goodnight to Romeo (…parting is such sweet
sorrow) haint pleasurable atoll. Hitherto un
known that during the most vexing, trying,
and quaking bouts when both kin of thy ****
fought like angry cats would there transpire
the occasion of sincere tearfulness ululating
vain warbling. Now a pang of nostalgia arises
when I drive past their happy go lucky stomp
ping turf, or reflect on answering the trumpet
call to chauffer one or thee other to amusement
park, play date, mall, favorite toy store such as
Fivebelow, birthday party, et cetera. Even
certain tunes recalled to mind and/or heard
being broadcast across the audio logical spec
trum a cause for moistened tear ducts. Wince
with sadness also mixed with sigh lent bundled
expostulations of joy. Both progeny metamorphosed
into able bodied, minded and spirited lasses,
whose attainment far exceeded any projections
internally forecast. Initial onset of parent role
found me all thumbs. Prior to begetting two
darling dames, this chap spent disproportionate
number of hours sequestered within some hide
away, which frequently happened to be the
designated bedroom at 324 Level Road, College
Ville, Pennsylvania, 19010. Never did thee major
rit tee days of mine life point to babysitting or
working with that chronological demographics
comprising the adoring blessed innocence,
murmuring newborn obliviousness, that bespoke
penultimate unsullied, utmost virtue necessitating
interaction with tender infants beckoning being
cradled, endearingly fondled, demonstrably easing
fondness gripping heartstrings issue jetblue kinks.
Aye felt pitched headlong into this foreign territory,
and initially experienced utmost awkwardness when
attending, pampering and pulling (albeit gently)
upsy daisy, the nascent hint of autonomy. Remembrance
and recollection of élan, joie de vivire, and yea those
ear splitting threshold of pain screaming tantrums
all boxed into tidy wholesome Zen announcing
nuggets of greater meaningfulness and absolute
value. The above long winded reverie intended and
meant tubby a semi biography, but leave hit up to
his hie n hiss, he went way overboard, and will give
a one line summarization to describe his i.e. yours truly
life sentence fate decreed. He (this Anglophile chipper
chap lived under duress of extreme anxiety, obsessive/
compulsive behavior, panic attacks and essentially
schizoid personality disorder for the greater part
of his life and hard times, which raw bits would
warrant fleshing out to extrapolate how these psychic
pitfalls represented critical factors at various and
sundry turning points in his life.
Declared at last the choice
Disperses the mist
No more blaring noise
Hangs there the list!

Foes made so are made friends
Flow in bursts of congrats
There’s no making amends
It’s either bouquets or brickbats!

The winners they must rejoice
The losers there surely is none
If something went wrong with the choice
Take it as life’s another fun!

It’s bidding for vote could be a coin’s toss
To determine who could garner more popularity
Whatever, must not suffer loss,
Poetry, for that would be such pity!
when the winner by popular vote is declared
Friend I stand on your door with open arms
For the grace of your words they truly charm
I love them your agrees and the little spats
Your flowers in my hand bouquets brickbats!

It’s for you only that I get to see
What I am and what I could be
For that you never mind to part precious time
Gift that to me for my trifling rhyme!

My heart’s reader your words always charm
Your likes light up even the humdrum
It’s in your views that my writes come alive
They make a poet breathe his poems survive!

It then so happens your words become my own
Your seeds of thoughts in me get sown
My dreams meet yours mind touches mind
An awakening blooms in that priceless find!
Congressman and senators forewent
all manner of civility, fidelity and integrity wii
hull ding broadswords, derringers
and exhibiting the right to bare firearms
as all hell broke loose as testimony
to the dire prognostication foretold

more than saber rattling and Gatling guns que
kind from lambastes, fisticuffs
and brickbats ratcheted up as agents provocateurs nee
said obedience to semper fidelis credo, coda and **** knee
stance when dire straits called for restraint

against excess versus raising cane old hickory
i.e. Andrew Jackson latched onto when opposing with energy
plus verve espoused by fellow delegates,
and his hologram ghost ******

from battle scars outside and/or inside
the halls of government where blows bashed
dovetailed elected legislators to officiate
as angry birds viz brouhaha clashed
Federalist against their nemesis

of the twenty first century
during the term of Donald Trump
who throve on the cutthroat frenzied
internecine lawlessness dashed
to and fro, hither and yon

any hopelessness for civilians to escape bloodshed
spilled from without vaunted halls of justice,
the approach of doomsday
writ large as anarchy and mayhem flashed
with uproarious coup d’etat,

when Democrats outliers gnashed
teeth, and nonestablishmentarian outlaws
pistol whipped and hashed
tagged traitors who roared America
went bankrupt at sold at fire sale price slashed

when Donald Trump ran the country
into the ground evidenced by Molotov Cocktails residue
in concert with the sulfuric odor of hand grenades trashed
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing

with powder puffs sans canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble, and liberal took a page
from playbook of Pandora, and took an aimless swing
at the root cause of melee by hurling objet’s d’art

at the pompous trump ping
Septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric that made America great

wantonly soup peer egg go whist tickly
reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when Whistler Blowers
getting water boarded and aching

deigning to implement dictatorship
of the Proletariat as a capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths
viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic

twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by the New York Nicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries

with limping bodies spent like derricks
Oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice in Chains and
Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.
Marshall Gass Jun 2014
Spacious splendour trapped in an airless cage
my mind bends in the undercurrents of rage
What was it I last heard spoken in the fragments of peace
Jason escapes the Argonauts-The Fleece?

Draped across his shoulders still dripping warmish blood
Noah and his cranky yacht-floating in the flood
Did Jesus really turn the loaves and fishes into food
Or did he mesmerise the masses to make it sound so good?

The 'whispers' that I speak of are outside human thought
Like pearls so locked in shells that divers bravely fought
Once it breaks the surface, the bargaining then begins
Vanity a thirst, unable to conquer sins

These whispers that I speak of, are quiet in a storm
They won't support the Thunder or any peaceful calm
They are just words so placed in har-mony
They may mean so little-but more than you can see!
Author Notes

Yeah. That's it. All symbolism encased in oyster shells. You have to dig deep to find out what I mean? If you do find out, write me a comment. Its okay if its a nasty one. I'm used to brickbats. Evolutionary processes have made me develop a thick skin! Thanks

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Mirror Mirage Jun 2018
everything rots, reeks and crumbles into pieces,
all turn into dust and degenerate corpses.
there is no magic portal gun to zet into another reality,
you will be slapped morning, noon and night.

everything stinks, dies and rears its ugly corner,
all end up competing and cheating one another.
dismal gloom over powers hope and fake altruism,
bring on your brickbats for my negative thoughts

everyone reacts, when there is nothing to lose,
or when you have someone around you to support,
everyone remains silent, when the obvious states otherwise,
whichever you chose, didn't i get a reaction from you.

nothing is what it appears or speaks for itself to be,
everything is devoid of a collective conscious, a common grave
bury your higher order being wanting some stirring,
stop reading this poem, and build something real.

still persistent, are we? click that, tweet this, like that, hate this,
fire away your anonymous cannon ***** in well dressed amnesty,
breathe in life, turn off that news, hug someone,
create something, anything, don't consume the internet today,
we have more reporters that we will ever need,
what we need is news makers...
a random rambling directed at nobody in particular
Traces of the masterful
impregnable prepubescent wall
still extant scads of decades since
complex edifice erected to force tall
permanently leaving me unmoored,
marooned, and furloughed ready for pall
bearers to spill soil upon my
then emaciated stick figure overall,

an unlovely bag of bones
stripped of flesh,
sans unseen deadly parasites,
who valiantly tried to mothball,
and nearly succeeded, kneaded,
and deeded landfall,
when aghast parents
at wits end betiding,

halting, and ramming ace kickball
player with serious
game of life and death,
the latter cleated toehold
unanimous decision to install
topnotch scorer anticipating
seeing his name plaque mounted
within glass encasement within guildhall,
faintly hearing inaudible teammates

praised showered, visited
head upon one, with grit and gall,
who clinched championship
wrathful excoriation against me
referee could not forestall,
who fumbled, kindled (as predicted)
loose tongues flaying hide with no rescue
to escape being skewered behind eight ball,

thus the above "FAKE"
metaphor merely to accentuate
self repudiation delivering
to this defacto scapegoat
bullies taunts endlessly berate
ting, jackknifing, and resulting
with implacable self hate
deferrening allowance,

asper my grant (migrant)
humph...pariah status
to learn social skills quite late,
and apathetically to marry and mate
despite ambivalence within my pate
even now...the entombed fortress prison wall,
I cannot obliterate
hence... no surprise WALLS - I HATE!
inalienable, inimitable,
     and inviolable sacrosanct
contentiously debated enshrined Constitution
     ratified June 21, 1788

     preceding hallmark Bill of Rights
     (adopted effective December 15, 1791) rank
despite British Monarchy exerting, sans lanced
     strong arm tactics in response to "FAKE prank

asserting original fledgling NON GMO,
gluten and msg free
     thirteen American colonies
     (with a great hee ***)

severely itching for
     (and declared) autonomy
     from Britain with mojo
memorialized On July 2, 1776,

     when Second Continental Congress,
     (with more yes votes then no)
met in Philadelphia voting
     unanimously, where  this poe

whit notates historical
     declaration of independence,
yet since Information Technology Revolution
     trumps Founding Fathers (well nigh

     almost two hundred
     and fifty (CCL) year status quo
as into uncharted figurative waters
     American Democracy doth row,

especially problematic to adapt
     couched freedoms show
cased within storied
     novel innovative though

now confounding, frustrating,
     and immobilizing supposed call
ling on learned scholars
     adept doctors at law,

     resistant to brickbats
     heaved by protesters with gall
or perhaps consulting
     entertainers at Faneuil Hall,  

how in tarnation can the tenets, rubric,
     and precepts, sans seven score
     and four plus orbitz ago
before advent of tele

     communications companies
     exhibited fiercely greedily
     hungry indomitable up pall
ling monopolistic control,
     via erecting a unscalable fire wall  

authorized with an A okay by the FCC
Federal Communications Committee to glee
fully relinquish control
     (blood) letting "Big Cable", thus

     allowing, enabling, and promoting key
purrs of the Internet remain
     under jurisdiction me
ning all content and applications
     can ***** nilly nee  

i.e. be deliberately blocked as well  
     particular products or websites pre
venting unfettered access to thus re
choir ring every man, woman and child even three
yar olds to voice objection,
     and take prescient action NOW!
overladen snow covered crackle and crunch
though, this skeptic owned a doubtful hunch
that such 24/7 round the clock whether coverage
     would make laughingstock of forecasting
     how Jack Frost feigned being out to lunch

and merely his
     (or maybe he hiz a her saving
     best surprise for last, thus Jackie Frost,
     cuz women feel snubbed, shortchanged,
     excluded, and being bossed
around feeling pinched at emotional,

     physical, and spiritual cost
with million plus women marches
     that did exhaust
yet, brought more equitable treatment,
     and now risk being lost
in space at the outer limits
     of the twilight zone or tossed
     into the maws of Earth vis a vis

donning miner for a heart of gold,
where a frayed life line offers tenuous hold
nonetheless, despite risks to life and/or limb
     females can experience em bold
dinned journeying
     exposing them to in extremis cold
and worthy bets
     at gambling halls upon casino bluffing,

     thence, slapping (with poker face)
     upon table a winning hand
     abruptly forcing game to fold
grinning ear to ear while she scoops up gold

repudiating ugly rumors stereotyping women,
     within which many other arenas
     the devastatingly constricting mold
now upon many another proving grounds

     non verbally, smugly,
     and proudly assert" i told
     you so" garnering, inviting, and
     kickstarting kudos where,
     their overdue praiseworthy virtues extolled
which hard fight now pits

     more gals to enter the scrum
letting actions speak louder than words
as bragging rights allow them to keep mum
though insinuating

     rightful opportunity to whisk plum
ming access, where once (and still
     to a lesser degree)
     men didst unfairly prune
     and hurl cruel names like hey "****

     bag", and/or other unflattering brickbats
     versus increasing plaudits showered from
on high spelling vic tory
     toward equality effacing glum
scowl into smile breaking out
     finding more men grudgingly
     bestowing deserved accolades
     re-evaluating degrading

     the fairer *** with dumb
asinine barbs, now underscoring
     befriending opposite gender
     making ladies in waiting
     tubby a worthy chum

now, this ***
seeks Alma Mater dames
     and graduates of
     Hard Knocks School Alum.
Chris Slade Jan 2019
Back then - as a lad he picked up his millions from his dad. He’s Trump.
Yeh - Dad made millions… passed one on… he picked it up and started the run -
Need to make a zillion? Just watch this - be rude about people take the ****.
Buy a bit of land - build a casino - use slave labour - treat em like dirt - we know,  in Atlantic City, It’s a dump…

Moves On. Stamps on the meek makes ‘em squirm - He’s Trump.
Do something naughty - Oi - we saw yer - I’ll cover it up - get a good lawyer.
Loves the limelight can’t get enough… **** Star? Can’t tell the truth...makes up stuff
One rule for me - one for you… Fancy a slinky bird will she *****? Fancy a ****?

Say you didn’t do it - who’s to know… He’d refuse a pardon to an innocent on death row. "I’m Trump".
I’m a bit special and Life’s a doddle… Havin’ it off with a Slovenian model (or two)…
Yeh…fancy a broad grab her *****… I’m up for President and obviously I’m not fussy.
And, behaving like a total ***** house doesn’t stop you from reaching the white house… He’s Trump.

He won the nomination and the election - power makes him nuts, gives him a cerebral *******. He’s Trump!
Smarmy? Yes…but in charge. Yes! Barmy! So I won’t let gay people join the army.
Immigration control Law and order?… won’t let Mexicans cross the border.
Heavy malice aforethought and negative intent. ******* I’m the President. "I’m Trump!"

Thinning hair - Tonsorial arts…let it grow… swirl it - coiffe it - spray it gold, spray again with ‘hard to hold’ - "I’m Trump!
In the wind it unfurls and makes him look like a ****…but he has the answer - the baseball hat…
And the cap allows him to carry the message… Making America Great Again!…impressive!
The permatan the orange strangulated hues… completes the picture, ties the noose…  Internationally - Bit of a chump.

Sociopathic with a personality disorder. Narcisist!…Doesn’t drink so he can’t be ****** - But He’s Trump.
Tell a lie, a big one - deny it. Most sensible people wouldn’t even try it - but he does.
Whatever you think… and it’s been said, he eats big Macs whilst he’s in bed - Tweeting!
How does he do it? What a nerve - a shining example to the people he should serve… They could be going to do ‘the dump’

Foreign policy? …ask the Pope… He summed it up in a glance…NOPE! Putin ‘NYET!” Macron ‘NON’. No go for Trump.
He insults the press corps at home and abroad…It’s fake news this - fake news that - read the message on the hat!
“Impeach… Impeach” some folks cry… “**** the lot of you it’s do or die! I ain’t going down without a fight” -
So, after all the brickbats, guffaws, jeers and jokes… He loses it… lights the fuse… That’s all folks! That was Trump!

Trouble is he could take a lot of people with him! And he will... He's Trump!
after pros and cons discussed
     with six grade speech pathologist, she weighed
in favor, to launch stealth offensive
     spring time surprise raid,

which faux analogous military show of force,
     no picnic nor hit parade
though undeniably,
     unequivocally, and unquestionably

     earned the unflagging necessary
     parental consent okayed,
whose unconditional love for welfare
     of this sundered son obvious

     nasal twang genetic mutation made
constituting said congenital defect
     identified as sub
     mucous cleft palate, which laid
waste thine boyhood psyche 

     teased, thwacked, and 
     tormented, skewered, and frayed,
which exacerbated introverted 
     strongly dominant behavioral trait, 
     thus hermetically sealed convenient 
     modus operandi spelled E+V+A+D+E

the madding crowd at all costs,
     (hence quickly felt lured 
     to an emotional brink)
thus from the fountain of death, 

     I wanted to drink
versus putting up my measly 
     (not so hazardous) dukes 
     knocking out cold, every rat fink

though this scaredy pants chose passivity 
     from classmates, a tacit ticket to yawl
to deliver sucker punches 
     (as iz the wont of mean kids), 

     and evoking evoking a 
     not so shabby (nee convincing) 
     impression of a stone wall
albeit rather small

since diminutive slight build another up pall
ling (albeit) physical characteristic suffering offal
bouts of bullying, and sought refuge 
     imagining dragons 
     to beat up punks and maul

every grimacing, leering, questing
monster lurking to brandish brass knuckles 
    upon turning down this, that, 
     or another dimly lit hall 

in part, cuz zam ma pinched 
     onrush of air thru my button nose, a drawl
dangling as perfect prime call
ling card, when only within pendulum 
     swinging in pit of tummy 
     did a horrendous brawl
ensue, yet this haint all

aye wanna write, originally to explain savior 
     in the guise of speech pathologist's aid
introduced tummy upon entering sixth grade
whose intervention laid  

precedent to exercise muscles 
     along inner neck, and played
what appeared as senseless games, 
     plus navigating, regulating, 

     and vocalizing wade
ding thru one book after another 
     while tape recorder thru brickbats un afraid.

an ambivalent flashback now occurs 
     upon forcing mine ears to hear voice
of yours truly, and tis not arrogance, 
     haughtiness, nor orneriness, but aye rejoice 
perfecting good riddance to figurative 
     thorn in muss hide by choice.
Otherwise titled: Regaling eldest sibling
delineating her sixty third successful orbit
around the sun December first 2021.

About consciousness who can tell
After haploid gametes
able, eager, and ready
to yield eukaryotic (diploid) cell?

What triggers instantaneous
biological, ideological, ontological process,
when microscopic entity
housing protoplasmic substance
future offspring features yet to foretell
said constituent contents
of future embryonic entity
most often equally dispersed
(Siamese births characterizing exception)
after life sustaining material
subsequently doubles, quadruples,
increases eightfold, sixteen fold...
courtesy mitosis
(also known as equational division)
only nine months later will quell?

However lay person or scientist
may explain what appears
as some mysterious phenomena,
each organism also
offers tell tale miracle
when conception occurs.

Particular case in point
regards unsuspecting union
of ova and spermatozoa
~late February/Mid-March 1959
constituting first time parents
Harriet and Boyce Harris
approximately nine months later
after full term pregnancy
about 280 days or 40 weeks
welcoming their beautiful baby daughter,
(the first of three offspring)
named Amelie Beth Harris.

Once upon a time
(said charming lovely little girl
frequently on the lookout
for welfare of her sole brother
me, a frequent scapegoat for bullies
would not countenance
yours truly suffering verbal brickbats,
out the mouths of nasty brutes,
hence as long as she lives)
forever anointed, dubbed, and heralded
from the mindscape of Matthew Scott
mine amazing saving grace,
a divine angel
donning a figurative golden halo.

When this har grown man
a little boy, prepubescent kid
and emerging young adult,
he never recognized the worth
(albeit priceless true value)
regarding his eldest kinfolk

Unbeknownst to him
(i.e id est - me) until quite recently
afflictions he experienced
within these lovely bones of mine
vicariously felt by aforementioned
family member, whose unbounded
emotional sensitivity
coupled with pleasantly
unexpected monetary largesse
represents unsung hero.

Impossible mission to reciprocate
countless occasions said sibling
helped (née rescued) beetle browed
little feet skittering away
property foo fighting beastie boy
who concludes his poem courtesy Google:
Skidamarink a **** a ****,
Skidamarink a doo,
I love you.

Skidamarink a **** a ****,
Skidamarink a doo,
I love you.

I love you in the morning
And in the afternoon,
I love you in the evening
And underneath the moon;
Oh, Skidamarink a **** a ****,
Skidamarink a doo,
I love you!
Satsih Verma May 2018
You must act now,
to deceive yourself. Laugh,
when you want to cry
in blue silence.

Getting ready to choke on
the unspoken words―
of committing a sin of speaking
the truth.

Unaltered ego of lynx eyes
goes through the walls of double-blinds.
The drugs were fake and
faith was dead.

With whom you want to
share the brickbats? The cheats
will ride the colossus and
the new moon will rise red.
Fallow wing on figurative
     awk **** lees heal
of: "My on call (Uncle)
     Muse Never Sleeps"-
     which hoop fully

     didst eat turn nilly app peal
ache'n to (tongue in cheek)
     mucho yum zook
     awesome guacamole tasting real
lee out of this world culinary steal
within the confectioner common weal.

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

Undoubtedly every aspiring,
     and/or successful author
     (from United States, the You
Kay and/or any other country)
     doth gingerly woo
cerebral explosive starry eye burst,
     and strives to hone on nest lee
     maximize zing her/his writing,

     yet keenly aware
     unfettered near pristine view,
when her/his own das scribe able true
     lee most opportune
     critical (albeit figurative)
     window of literary creativity
     must needs be channelled
     analogous to damning

     a swollen river,
     (albeit blitzkrieg brickbats
     unstoppably pounding dog gone
     ferociously, that doth spew)
to spill out unwedded, uncoupled,
     and unbridled, essentially,
     non groom matt tickly uncontrollably
     (chomping at the bit) literary

     flood tide of ideas
     without pausing to edit, nor review
(bursting at the figurative seams),
despite futile attempt to
staunch, stave, stay,
     et cetera over saturated figurative
     sand bagged levee mal lined queue
     stream of consciousness

     with (oh brother) Grimm purview,
whereat, the palpable next great
     winning gust American opus
     doth appear as forsaken cause
unexpurgated (approximating
     totally tubularly regurgitated pablum)
     riddled with flaws
will presumably meet with editorial wrath

     venomous unprintable thrashing
     more vituperative than in-laws
subsequently ill fate receives
     terse cancellation from Oprah's
Bookclub, where unstinting praise about
equates to a near
     guarantee reversing bout
of dirt poor

     poverty novel with clout
would book without
     a shadow of a doubt
home ward James mull hoard
     cuja (meaning this chap
     forced to work graveyard shift)
     pocketed a shining winner,
     hence noel hunger need to flout,

a heavy schedule, whence tome
     more row rockets red glare
     will arc across cerulean sky inveritably
     propelling overnight yesterday's
     unknown schlepping scrivener lout
to top of New York Times
     best seller list
     with trumpeting huzzahs.
Rupal May 2020
The world is indeed topsy turvy.
Stones worshipped
with bouquets
and brickbats
thrown at people.
taking devil's advocate stance...,
with sharp eyed cognizance
of course Joe King abidance!

Wild eyed traitor Joe Schmoe,
albeit Democrat subjects himself to grow
wing skepticism at impeachment show
whip lashed, viz strapping **** who stow
weapons of mashed destruction
expects at least one rotten tomato,
or "mother's petrified pop slop,

electronic brickbats, et cetera
hard as(s) bupkis targeting yours truly
smack dab rendering aspiring po'
wit smashing me face
courtesy final deathblow,
while pilloried vainly
waiting for... Godot,
cuz I must say impeachment travesty

appears triumphantly *******,
where Nancy Pelosi will eat crow
proving Hillary Clinton's catchphrase
basket of deplorables apropos
aforementioned speaker of the house
tin *** dictatorial desperado
scuttling hither and yon to and fro

oddly enough even staking out
manhunt for Wizard of Oz
enlisting (right on the Dot) doggone toto
tense seat of pants increasing
stiff competition on all faux pas,
whereby freezeframe tableaux
icy (I see) as temperatures

dip down into five below
analogous to stop motion
projector manned by bonobo
sports petsmart stuff and struts
(think shock absorbed) ditto
Ringling Bros and Barnum
& Bailey Circus, where ma's yoyo

tricks, tracks, and trumps...
three ringed circus, nonetheless
(toe) nail biting suspense
amazingly graceful slick cameo
starring emperor donning
invisible new clothes
couture well worn portfolio

prosecutorial cadres itching
to dredge schmutz (quad) drilling,
and extracting ore region null
evidence upending forefathers status quo
appearing impressive bandying
sine qua non quid pro quo bingo
emphatic pedantic Latin Oh

though above named
language dead - Anglo
Saxon heavily and
will (yum) doth barr row,
especially to appear self important
those of the Senate
does saul full bellow.
Lobbed and unleashed upon the heads
of (yours truly and the missus)
so called selfish "monsters."

The evening of Wednesday April 19th
witnessed us (birth parents of our first born)
weathering blistering telephonic brickbats.

She (unnamed eldest daughter)
spewed venomous bilious froth
across aforementioned medium
encompassing quite a few hours.

Upon being queried
how costly the purchase
of pre owned 2020 Hyundai Elantra,
I responded quasi cryptically
indicating nine thousand dollars
paid (courtesy trust account,
whereby mine older sister made executrix),
which represented less than half
the total dollar figure of said automobile.

Acknowledgement of vehicular acquisition
triggered unfettered tirade
loosed out the mouth of progeny
not only denouncing decision
regarding spending beyond my means,
but excoriating me for being an ingrate
throughout the lifetime of offspring,
a veritable charity case,
who exercised little or no foresight
and abdicating financial responsibilities
incumbent upon a negligent father.

At a tender vittle young age
upsetting behavior on behalf of gifted daughter
threats of self harm near impossible mission
wrought helplessness at horror
parental sense and sensibility,
nor forced therapy (which backfired,
when prized progeny) violently
against professional intervention
then cherished child fought
tooth and nail desperate
measure for measure didst disengage
reception and begat stone walling response,
when lovely lass

verbally probed with kid gloves
courtesy child psychologist
myopic yet keen eyes of mine did gauge
and grievously concluded helplessness
and stark similarity
when writer of these words
in the throes of severe depression
viz anorexia nervosa at prepubescent stage
race against time
confronting uncomfortable truth
life of Matthew Harris at stake,
thus Boyce and Harriet battle
regarding earthling in the balance did wage.

Nevertheless ill preparedness to sire kin
ushered me into emerging adulthood,
where raging hormonal secretion
think seminal ******* without birth control
analogous to Russian roulette spin
no surprise when haploid
male germ cell hit figurative bullseye
with resultant "bun in the oven"
read embryo a biological win.

Though a whip smart girl
University of Pennsylvania alumna
from engineering school
and living independently
approximately one third of her life,
she never lets us forget
financial hardship linkedin with
parents who exhibited
severe emotional impoverishment,
hence psychological indelible rupture
forever alienating a sad papa.

Despite understandable estrangement
after premature ******* took aim,
(I accept onus of supposed blame)
omnipotent bond rent asunder
between knight in tarnished armor
who could hardly wait
until college matriculation time came
cuz darling daughter her manifest destiny,
she wanted to jimmy and game

essentially severing home ties
haunted by abominable ghosts of yesteryear
donning and modestly trumpeting success
at life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness
mantle of pridefulness
without prejudice wear.
~ May fourth, 2005
wedded bliss nearly fifty years
half a century almost
me not most favorite grown offspring,
she (when alive) did boast,
about youngest sister and her family,
unlike me – severely socially withdrawn
a veritable wallflower
as a result, I suffered emotional contusions.

When thru life yours truly did
nervously, frightfully, blisteringly coast,
nevertheless her spirit dwells
within wonky tonk prodigal host
crafted in the following poem he doth post
holding tumblr full of favorite brew
probiotic kombucha drink
to thee mother dearest
foregone fading memories
your long haired heir does toast.

Often these days,
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share
how one and only son,
remembers his mother
cuz about eighteen years
after she succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness
he trots out and updates yearly
a poem initially crafted
when she passed away.

I still reckon eyes how yours truly
analogous to the fountainhead  
of Atlas shrugged off,
whose fanciful essence coalesced
immensely helped  sired,
and yelped ****** ******
when ******* ***** in heat whelped  
at what human biology wrought
doggone muttering schlep
despite being nurtured,

proffered, and registered
tender loving care
within whose womb,
a mature haploid female cell
experienced fertilization courtesy
complimentary male haploid *****
underwent fertilization yielding
zygote thru mother nature's gestation
this sole male offspring born,
thus subsequently after her demise,
yours truly shouldered himself with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
when she felt the scythe of the grim reaper
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
when all mine troubles
(emotional, financial, and physical)
moost definitely
no more farther away
then present moment.

Tempus fugit popular worded couplet
brings Latin alive with succinct precision
or imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
analogous to last remaining
grains representing sands of time
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber.

Just prior when coroner decreed death,
yet once in a lifetime opportunity prevailed,
wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
(analogous to sitting Shiva)
of she who begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
figuratively and literally
wracked and pinioned once fitness
and health conscious, flirtatious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,
dinged, harangued, peppered
nefarious carcinoma by dint of
common atomic beastie boy
among certain Semitic people
linkedin to presumptuous inbreeding.

According to google search
frequency of breast, ovarian,
and uterine cancer among Ashkenazi
elicited revelatory statistic
1% of all Ashkenazi Jews
living today inherited
a defective copy of one
of their BRCA2 genes.

Unbeknownst to them,
these carriers of BRCA2 mutation
at increased risk for developing
breast, ovarian, prostate
and pancreatic cancer.

Indomitable esprit de corps
eradicated courtesy regimen of
chemotherapy and radiation,
which latter malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately sixty nine years past),
whose coy and coquettish demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm
of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother
out of misery (a veritable battleground)
where she did silently rage into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,

nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,
not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly
cold stone pilot less body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited when mama alive)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partially listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
where family of mine then resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection
regarding once young bride,
(who metaphorically
smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),

cuz he (yours truly) overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated
at me boyhood home
once located upon
six plus wooded acres;
324 Level Road
constituted the whittled down
once sprawling Leiper Estate,
which encompassed about
one hundred plus acre wood
home to Winnie the Pooh.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented
(albeit verbally traumatized)
yours truly, upon attaining
mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations
greatly exacerbating
emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained

akin to fountainhead spewing
painful pelting piercing
poisonously pummelling (python like
hashtagged with moniker Monty)
down upon these
considerably mooch younger lovely bones,
whose anger (mine) smoldered
linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within me
every holy moly molecule.

Mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with
both my non twisted sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey
and the younger staked out
modest digs within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently soon scythe
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house, I now conclude.
Often these days
(closing in on the eighth
anniversary of eighth orbit
around mister sun),
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share
how one and only son,
remembers his mother
cuz about eighteen years
after mother succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness
he updates yearly a poem initially crafted
when she passed away.

I still reckon eyes how yours truly
analogous to Atlas -
shrugged off proffering
tender loving care
within whose womb,
one zygote underwent gestation
this sole male offspring born,
thus subsequently after her demise,
yours truly shouldered himself with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
when all mine troubles
(emotional, financial, and physical)
moost definitely
no more farther away
then present moment.

Tempus fugit popular worded couplet
or imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
analogous to last remaining
grains representing sands of time
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber
just prior when coroner decreed death,
yet an opportunity prevailed,

wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
of she who begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
figuratively and literally
wracked and pinioned once fitness
and health conscious, flirtatious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,
dinged by a former carcinoma

eradicated courtesy regimen of
chemotherapy and radiation,
which latter malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately sixty eight years past),
whose coy and coquettish demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm
of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother
out of misery (a veritable battleground)
where she did silently rage into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,
nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,

not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly cold stone body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited when mama alive)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partial listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
where family of mine then resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection

regarding once young bride,
(who metaphorically
smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),
cuz he (yours truly) overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated
at me boyhood home
once located upon
six plus wooded acres;
324 Level Road
constituted the whittled down
once sprawling Leiper Estate,
which encompassed about
one hundred plus acre wood
home to Winnie the Pooh.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented
(albeit verbally traumatized)
yours truly, upon attaining
mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations greatly exacerbating

emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained
akin to fountainhead spewing
painful pelting piercing
poisonous pummels
down upon these
(considerably mooch younger) lovely bones,
whose anger (mine) smoldered

linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within me
every holy moly molecule.

Mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with
both my non twisted sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey

and the younger staked out
modest digs within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently soon scythe
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house, I now conclude.
destination unknown
for this Earthling
stardate: February 26th, 2022

At sea since time immemorial
I relish being alone
upon oceanic expanse
yours truly doth bemoan
me gal Sal (one among
numerous female confidantes),
no matter, she easily
mistaken as a crone
magical powers keep
her manning far aloft drone
as surveillance hovers above me
(to intercept encrypted

communication maintained
courtesy bluetooth earphone)
the two of us sol survivors
I feel like a foreigner since
global thermonuclear war
bombed webbed wide world
into pulverized power
vaguely similar landscape
to age of Fred Flintstone
and Barney Rubble
recurring memories redolent
of yesteryear, whereby I groan
though simple living

such as me and the missus
did Potschke coaxing homegrown
organic fruits and vegetables,
though, I attest we did
get violently angry with each other
and unwittingly cross interzone
where brickbats exchanged,
especially after she discovered
an illicit extramarital affair
between myself and Joan
since kindergarten her I known.

Weather beaten cap'n,
and watertight bewitched craft
time tested since maiden voyage
(circumnavigating the globe
back in the day of my youth),
I ranked tough as a pitbull,
when severely pitted
against raw elements
of swiftly tailored,
harried stylish nature
against leathery faced

reptilian skin, hard drinking
(actually as corked
poetic convenience - vermouth
arbitrary bottle of choice
if for no other reason,
than to rhyme
with the above line),
and tobacco spitting, while
colorfully swearing as an uncouth
Furies (of Agamemnon)
fighting (tooth

and nail) Pirate,
where rickets, scurvy,
and thrice unconscious,
currently ample proof
could not forsooth
bring me to Davy Jones's locker,
cuz I never wanna
get relegated to an underwater
whale schooled booth,
this raconteur can nonchalantly,
glibly, and blithely attest,

with braggadocio, despite
no warm welcome will
ever greet mine tinnitus
pained ears, I can plainly
imagine acrimonious retort
upon me behest
his far more'n lifetime
bobbing (like a sponge)
square pants float
buoyed atop crest longing e'en for
(carping, caviling, hen pecking,
or shrewish) wife.
With a middle name as "Flag this Scapegoat,"
I best not be surprised bullied from cutthroat
villains (supposedly kind hearted facilitators/
moderators, sans Facebook administrators, but
woe **** me hyperbole 4 lite dramatic affect),

mine psyche stung, when months after months
no incidents of lamentable discrimination did
I experience until...early this last week in Feb.
rue weary - BAM, many poems dispatched to
various and sundry Facebook poetry groups in

das scrim min hit lee suddenly generated host
till lit tee (within me every fiber and sinew) re-
guarding justifiable explanation necessitating
why (albeit vaguely worded electronic message),
yours truly did not comply with stipulations,

when no objectionable outburst could be linked
in with contents mainly implicating myself as
this doubting Thomas (foolhardy fella) rarely
loosed, lobbed, launched brickbats against no
one within madding crowd, hence exert at tent

heaven esse, when choosing my words, a shock
sparked anger upon a deluge of unexpected (the
equivalent of slap on the face) without warning
to address any unacceptable issue, which ready
corrections this mindful scribe would attend, no

questions asked, then methought an opportunity
presented itself to express displeasure, whether
warm reception ala royal carpet treatment took
place even if I brought a ratty old Scottish mat),
thus the mere exercise to expunge pent up anger

(electronically) automatically, excellently, and
immediately reduced agitation, an opportunity
to modify my behavior since pathetic unhealthy
modus operandi earlier during mein kampf, the
necessity to free emotions as a youngster beak

came internalized, whereat cumulative instances
when browbeaten, effectively - indiscriminately
needled, taunted, et cetera found me to swallow
indignities against mine person to communicate
without resorting to violent threat, which would
ratchet up a minor fracas into a major altercation.
Impossible mission to escape end of life woe
visit courtesy grim reaper
inevitable for every mortal,
whether he/she alive
yesterday, today or tomorrow
quintessentially senescence tabled
upended wrested status quo
belief, dogma, faith...
(i.e. Unitarian Universalism)
albeit atheistic to the core

mine temporal perspective yes and no
affects how I process death,
afterlife mystery only
googly dead souls know,
yet intimation possibly presage consciousness
prior to corporeal being given heave **
cashing in chips tantamount
to omnipotent deity collecting his/her escrow,
whether thee cremated or buried six feet below.

Our short lived presence upon terrestrial firmae
forces yours truly (me) to reconcile and address
internalized emotions whereby decades elapsed
when sole son (begat between thee and mother)
found irksome offspring regarding shortcomings
triggered hollow ultimatums begetting madness
to flourish toward meek offspring inept at filial

duties, who sought refuge within known solitude
usually finding second born progeny holed up in
his bedroom ofttimes fervently engrossed reading
imaginatively escaping trials and tribulations +
wishing he could magically transform himself
far from irate parents, within their good graces
he fell short short since January 13th MCMLIX.

Methinks ambivalence towards papa
(a nonagenarian widower)
comprising mein kampf
three score plus one year
constituted ineradicable unseen wall,
nevertheless impenetrable as any **** weir

metaphorical barrier laid brick
by figurative brick encompassed unilinear
chronological invisible breastwork did snare
nobody but thyself anomalous to grown man
exhibited effeminate characteristics
as young lad, though not queer,

nor the least bit attuned and/or aware
about ****** orientation,
but simply introverted quite clear
to any casual observer,
a veritable outcast (of Poker Flat), i.e.
cuz I experienced alienation everywhere

at home (then 324 Level Road,
school (Henry Kline Boyer Elementary)
retreated to boyhood bedroom
contrived make believe playmates
courtesy overactive mental cog and gear
named Harny and Dinny never insincere.

Dear papa, your frail physical health disallows
in apropos, callous, and egregious to trot out
vindictive remonstration harkening back days
witnessed by extreme grievances signalling
caustic verbal brickbats lobbed squarely upon
passive progeny unable to attain expectations,
(albeit reasonable), I fell far short (physically

emotionally, and academically) to acquire atta
boy approbation rather constant browbeating
frightened timid lad scared of his own shadow
methinks yours truly shameful embarrassment
whereby failure to accomplish basic income
invariably congenital fait accompli linkedin
with purported schizoid personality disorder.
no (apparent) rhyme nor reason
(satisfactorily) explains academic
     disposition, ideally suited
     (swiftly tailor made,
     and harried styled)
     unflattering venomous wicked xhenemy
     (fill in choicest expletive) **** cruelest
     "meanies" always in season
winter, spring, summer, or autumn,

     psychological rabid
     bullying and teas'n,
which only exacerbated
     ma deathly coffin and wheeze'n.
Avenging beastly, eagerly,
     and hungry knuckleheads, rip-snorting,
     analogous to Doctor Zeus
characters, vis a vis stomped,

     and trampled upon my wuss
self, who appeared as
     a listless, passive, ****
see footing, and
     timid complex edifice
christened Matthew Scott Harris,
who regularly got pushed,
     shoved, and verbally gored

in utero potential quintessential
     no salvation from Unitarian lord
ugly vicious wretched
     insults liberally poured
(pre snapchat, instagram,
     hash-tagged age) roared
increased spell of losing measured
     necessary pridefulness scored

requisite susceptibility toward
brow beating, name
     calling, plus tossed
     brickbats staged early life, viz
psychological schizoid state courtesy
     hateful nemesis within
     corporeal lodge warred.
malevolent habitués received

     permanent residency thence
"green lighted" status
     since birth I cannot sense
sub billy understand
     (near) total recall
     particularly names
     no matter offense
of classmates and/

     or teacher's, hence
especially dumb
     founding since defense
less "boy" did not
     shine as a star student
     as is if he (me)
     took emotional absence.
plus to add insult

     to injury, my mouth
     stayed hermetically shut,
near invisibility designated nut
tin beat pluperfect
     "scapegoat de jure,"
     such intimidation found me
     feeling thrashed in the gut
     where (stellar) qualifications

     only made cut
ting worse, (essentially attributed
     to genetically inscribed
     behaviors, characteristics,
   habits, et cetera)

     immediately designated yours truly
     most puny, and
     quietest convenient but
of any atheistic, ethnic,
     and/or idiotic jokes.
Self destructive wickedness arrested, convicted, and gaoled...

with kidnapping little boy
ordered to suffer
life sentence without parole.

The deadly scourge of  
one obsessive/compulsive disorder
nearly left me starving to death.

Anorexia nervosa absent bulimia
nadir of onset
diagnoses schizoid personality disorder
severe social anxiety still legion I aire
behavior which agonizingly
elicited slow suicide
courtesy self starvation
maelstrom within psyche of self
as prepubescent lad
(particularly devastated  
immediate family members)
as emaciation pitted existential
revulsion from unseen

wuthering heights
betook courtesy yours truly
teased, hectored, and called “professor,”
when riding the school bus
nearly wrung death knell
annihilating fragile entity
christened Matthew Scott Harris
with peremptory imprimatur
yielding covalent bond to life
readily obvious to kith and kin
via zorro like signature per
profound perilous depressive
psychological state.

Now - at about
three decades plus six years
from attaining rank of centenarian
perfect 20/20 hindsight
offers supreme advantage from
swift current near drowning
alluded earlier when das scribe
juiced thwarted leapfrogging
from pollywog tad metamorphosed
to witness puberty,
whence devastating emotional
crisis tripped, trilled,

and tricked aborted
natural healthy development
chronological denouement demise
jump/kick started
theorizing  numerous educated guesses
within mind of
middle progeny and sole sol
(of the both late father and mother
Boyce and Harriet Harris) respectively
why he willfully hurtled his flesh
at light speed
down the abyss toward death.

Literal and physical lightness of being
manifested within nooks and crannies
prior to full blown symptoms
to eliminate sustenance
drawing the curtain on brief residence
way before high noon of life.
  
Metamorphosis from boyhood
kindled burning man
found solace in attempting
to keep at bay of pigs hijacked
natural cycle, which seminal
transformation grieved me
to pine for nostalgic childhood’s end
(albeit one fraught with romanticism)
vengefully interpreted attempt
to halt dead in the tracks
intervention of mother,
whose nursing experience helped
fend off passive attempt
to promulgate passive
silent plan to fruition.

She whipped various nutritious
concoctions in the blender
to ensure minimal essentials to this,
I readily admit) famished body
in conjunction with applying
vital supplements into
one or the other skeletal
gluteus maximus
thru fuel injection,
which submissiveness to acquiesce,
and bare bony buttocks

to receive iron injections
did absolutely nothing
to squelch death wish.
I inexorably did buzzfeed
hashtagged eating disorder
to go on a deadly hunger strike,
which essentially constituted
declaration of independent control
despite horrendous craving
for food jabbed innards like a pike
bifurcated psychic division

to live ousted coeval death wish goal
to seize yore reminiscent  
blissful, (albeit fictional) childhood
over flooded self made ****** ****
engaging, engendering, engineering
propensity to catapult yours truly
into abysmal emotional hole
and way before the invention
of Facebook, I mentally clicked like
to surrender mailer daemons all
of me healthy development stole.

Imprimatur indelibly etched decades
after bout with passive exit from life
crimp on ******/social skills plus
stunted physical growth cuts like a knife
affecting mental health with panic attacks
and anxiety although existence
considerably less riddled qua
debilitating symptoms
(such as vertigo, racing heart,
profuse sweating, nausea, irritable bowels)

relying on the following prescription medications:
BUSPIRONE HCL 15 MG TABLET
CLOMIPRAMINE 50 MG CAPSULE
CLONAZEPAM 0.5 MG TABLET
FLUOXETINE HCL 40 MG CAPSULE
GLYCOPYRROLATE 2 MG TABLET
PRAZOSIN 1 MG CAPSULE
PRAZOSIN 5 MG CAPSULE
RISPIRIDONE 1 MG TABLET
ROPINIROLE HCL 1 MG TABLET.

To add insult to injury
yours truly also gifted
courtesy split uvula
but did little to ameliorate
the writer of these words
suffering brickbats as scape goat,
whereby severe adenoidal vocalizations
allowed, enabled, and provided
an easy target viz black barbs
poised to strike, hurled,
and bullied me by peers.

Up until I entered six grade
(at Henry Kline elementary -
a one classroom per grade school)
classmates bullied, derided,
and feigned to hammer -
jabbing leering, nasty pimping ragout as a rule
which boyhood self of mine availed
a perfect bullseye target
with combination of diminutiveness,
being painfully quiet,

essentially remaining mum the entire day
except when called upon
to answer question
thence utterance emanating between lips
produced and emitted
a strong nasal sound to boot
grist for the mill
sans malice meted, mimicked,
and mocked mashup
of mine warped congestion
ah, twas only by a fluke conversation,

whence speech pathologist
informed my parents about
The Lancaster cleft palate clinic,
where oral an examination
revealed minor birth defect
identified as a submucous cleft palate,
which explained the severe pinched twang
somewhat mitigated by wearing
a removable prosthetic
fastened with clasps to upper teeth

whereby a makeshift miniature
plastic protuberance closed the gap
(at the expense of practically gagging me)
so air would be prevented
passing thru my button nose,
and thus gentle and soft as a shutterfly
shunted air out oral opening
though congenital defect disallowed
returning merchandise back to sender
nor could blame be affixed

at either father nor mother
who both harbored the genetic mutation
now such admissions
re: aforementioned impediment allows,
enables and provides boasting rights
if in a mood temper
any curiosity or satisfying a rumor
whispered down the alley
whence I said “ah”
left nagging nincompoops
as if pie hole filled with a gobstopper.
Often these days
(early May 2021)
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share one son,
cuz seventeen years after mother succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness.

I still reckon how yours truly
shrugged off proffering
tender loving care
when grim reaper in close proximity
to mama supine and nearly lifeless
within whose womb,
this sole son born,
thus shouldered with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
(when all mine troubles
moost definitely not far away)
last remaining grains sands of time.

Imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber
just prior when coroner decrees death,
yet an opportunity prevailed

wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
of she begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
(thwarting heroic measures)
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
racked once fitness
and health conscious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,

which malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately seventy years past),
whose flirtatious demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,
nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,

not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly cold stone body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited by mama)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partial listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
plus his family resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection

regarding once young bride,
(who smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),
cuz he (yours truly overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated at 324 Level Road.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented (albeit verbally)
yours truly, upon mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations greatly exacerbating

emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained
down upon these
(considerably mooch younger) lovely bones
whose anger (mine) smoldered

linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within every
holy (Molly Q. L.) molecule

within mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with
both non twisted sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey

and the younger staked out
modest home within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently scythe soon
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house housing our mutual friend,
I now conclude.
Mine emotionally fraught days of yore
spilt presentiment tinged blood
into sucker punched battle fatigued
war weary veteran.
He (yours truly) doth
presently ramble, scrabble, and trundle
across gutted landscape
strewn with psychological potsherds.
Oppressive alienation hashtags me as outcast,
where new born babes
technical abilities surpassed
scant infantile savviness (mine)
spurring notion, whereby yours truly
lived ages ago, when pace of life sedate
compared with present era in contrast.
Impossible mission to side step
cratered pock marked cerebral terrain
punctuating terra incognita courtesy disequilibrium
severely disrupting ability to function,
especially distractions issued out radio waves
regarding same Christmas songs
playing every hour.
I can't shake loose
being metaphorically entangled
cumulative detritus analogous geologic,
chronologic, and audiologic tracks laid down
since conception wrought
indelible grooves within noggin.
Risk averse demeanor
kept me hermetically sealed
against positive growth experiences
and (bully me)
not sequestered nor singled
out as token scapegoat,
whereby (wherein) psyche
relentlessly, quintessentially,
and painfully assaulted.
I too unwittingly, guiltily,
approvingly and willingly
allowed, enabled, and provided
unrepentant thugs to unleash brickbats
sticks and stones
(also Daily hurled at Georgie,
a Boxer/Dalmatian mix breed)
when our family Audubon, Pennsylvania.
Nevertheless, despite experiencing
horrendous childhood grievances,
I revere boyhood good times
a shy, (albeit rather socially withdrawn) kid
oblivious to danger
safely and securely affixed
to mother's apron strings.
Yepper, yours truly a bonafide mama's boy
severing figurative umbilical cord
I could not deploy
even now as an aging baby boomer,
viz yule eyes long hair pencil necked geek,
I experience social anxiety,
when feigning hobnobbing amidst hoi polloi.
Now at an advanced crotchety age
namely three score plus one Earth
orbitz around the nearest star,
yours truly revisits
poignant episodes foisting
launching snapchatting
one after another crisis
sidelining ability to cope
pursuing life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness
**** hard by at light speed.
Though just a kid during third industrial revolution,
I remember feeling lost in space (age) and agog
at being on the cusp, when infrastructure
(regarding blueprint describing
information superhighway,
technological/computer transformation
would when soon after graduating
Methacton high school
(mine alma mater)
quickly usher The Fourth Industrial Revolution
a way of describing the blurring of boundaries
between the physical, digital,
and biological worlds,
a fusion of advances in artificial intelligence (AI),
robotics, the Internet of Things (IoT), 3D printing,
genetic engineering, quantum computing,
and other technologies.
Often these days
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share one son,
cuz fifteen years after mother succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness

I still reckon how yours truly
shrugged off proffering
tender loving care
within whose womb,
this sole son born,
thus shouldered with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
(when all mine troubles
moost definitely not far away)
last remaining grains sands of time.

Imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber
just prior when coroner decrees death,
yet an opportunity prevailed

wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
of she begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
racked once fitness
and health conscious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,

which malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately fifty years past),
whose flirtatious demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,
nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,

not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly cold stone body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited by mama)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partial listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
plus his family resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection

regarding once young bride,
(who smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),
cuz he (yours truly overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated at 324 Level Road.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented (albeit verbally)
yours truly, upon mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations greatly exacerbating

emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained
down upon these
(considerably mooch younger) lovely bones
whose anger (mine) smoldered

linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within every
holy Mole (he) molecule

within mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with both sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey.

and the younger staked out
modest home within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently scythe soon
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house, I now conclude.
Courtesy narcissistic trumpeting
fungi moldering democratic underpinnings
donning spore ergot
lump n prowl lot terror re: hot,
hence yours truly compelled to jot
reasonable rhyme analogously describing
how land of the free home
of the brave strangled
courtesy Gordian knot
tying even Steven score
with diabolical phenomena
characterizing Salem's Lot.

The tattered glory of America,
now heats up to fahrenheit 451 degrees
analogous to kindling tinder
once again with agitation poised
to strike on brink
arty choked Jerusalem
legislation incites humiliation,
which goads desecration
fête accompli *****
in armor of Democratic

rubric, constituting capitalistic
ethic, generic iconoclastic,
and jingoistic logic,
nor budging an inch when man
dating trans sect
shoe ell masses swallow his drink
what huff huck –
this belligerent, dominant and
fervent hellraiser doth bungle in the jungle
decreeing tacit Marshall law

fast as twittering shutterfly eyewink
as his cosmic crotch grab doth
put Venus under his sway
with his Mercury re: hill temperament
pitches orbit of planet Earth
tubby comb out of balance
infected by hiz anti Jew pit
er damnations, excoriations, fulminations
huzzah sing how **** derriere
didst Saturn simultaneously

crushing crucible as an Uranus
indiscriminately plopping
approximately two hundred
and fifty pounds off flesh
doubling down humming
his favorite Neptune,
dost affect Pluto hoc crass sea
repeating self coined motto
I yam almighty, therefore no fink
simply commandeering reins of control,

a one man military intelligence groupthink
hut triad and true dyed in the wool
rip pugged ant guise zing rogue
rejoicing tuff fool, governing and hoodwink
king die hard fans of dictatorial,
linkedin and monarchist ink
cube bus thriving
wielding indomitable aggression
practiced in the Art of the Deal
Surviving at the Top,

The Art of the Comeback,
and The America We Deserve
incorporating an unanticipated jink
iron fist rule reigning down vis a vis
pro pens heave lee and prop hen city
flashing hiz seal of approval,
which scribbled signature
doth not smooth survey monkey
serve hazmat puzzling kink
boot his frenzy to bulldoze

catastrophic, formulaic, and illogic
spells these fruitful plain
in short *******rendered barren
United States of America
land of milk and honey
twill become wasteland
hell in a hand basket
with nary trace of able link
kin, the sixteenth president,
(whose rugged pioneering frontier existence)

found him steady and strong,
plus soft hearted as pelt o’ mink
the epitome if  elected forty seventh
commander in mischief
a twenty first century Drake
yule ha – albeit tink
con **** – barely describes
this oafish piranha making waves,
(whereby Hurricane Katrina
seems like child’s play),

where even a toddler,
could out rule,
out smart, and out think
maniac pampered
by donned patriarch Fred,
who fawned, doted
and bow wowed
over polarized magnate trick son,
whose rapacious,
reprehensible and riling actions

generated when United States
First Lady Melania Trump
wear a $39 jacket emblazoned with
"I really don't care, do you?"
during a trip to a migrant
child detention centre
published June 21st, 2018
didst give (in my humble opinion),
an affirmative clear cut, eye raising wink
to exploitation and fraternization
with kneading greed,

which four years of horror and terror
wrought chaos in the white house,

When congressman and senators forewent
all manner of civility, fidelity and integrity wii
hull ding broadswords, derringers
and firearms as all hell broke loose as testimony
to dire prognostication foretold
more than saber rattling and Gatling guns que
kind from lambastes, fisticuffs
and brickbats ratcheted
up as agents provocateurs nee
said obedience to semper fidelis

credo, coda and **** knee
stance when dire straits called for restraint
against excess versus raising cane old hickory
i.e. Andrew Jackson latched onto
when opposing with energy
plus verve espoused by fellow delegates,
and his hologram ghost ******
from battle scars outside and/or inside
the halls of government where blows bashed
dovetailed elected legislators to officiate

as angry birds viz brouhaha clashed
Federalist against their nemesis
of twenty first century
during the term of Donald Trump,
who throve on cutthroat frenzied
internecine lawlessness dashed
to and fro, hither and yon
any hopelessness for
civilians to escape bloodshed
spilled from without

vaunted halls of justice,
the approach of doomsday
writ large as anarchy and mayhem flashed
with uproarious coup d’etat,
when Democrats outliers gnashed
teeth, and nonestablishmentarian outlaws
pistol whipped and hashed
tagged traitors who roared America
went bankrupt at sold
at fire sale price slashed

when Donald Trump ran country
into the ground evidenced
by Molotov Cocktails residue
in concert with the sulfuric odor
of hand grenades trashed
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing
with powder puffs canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble,

and liberal took page
from playbook of Pandora,
and landed an aimless swing
at root cause of melee
by hurling objet d’art
at pompous trump ping
septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king,
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric

made America great
wantonly soup peer egg go whist tickly
reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when WhistleBlowers
getting water boarded and aching
deigning to implement dictatorship
virulent strain Jane's Addiction
of the Proletariat as capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths

viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic
twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by New York Knicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries
with limping bodies spent like derricks
oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice in Chains and
Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.

Meanwhile the complex edifice
housing innocent Little Red Riding hood
standing in for realm of Pilgrim's Progress
witnessed statuesque Lady Liberty
firmly grappling torch of freedom,
when sequel to forty fifth commander in chief
whereby talking head strongly prophecy
how he blatantly snatches emblematic symbol,  
and essential fabric and rubric
stitched together over the course

since Declaration of Independence
arrogated courtesy founding
fathers and mothers, (albeit unsung)
huge bear paws figuratively swiping
sacred inviolable enshrined covenants
stripping away said constitutional perquisites
establishing totalitarian hegemony
casting dark shadows
along the edge of night,
wherein outer limits of the twilight zone
harken stranger than fiction dystopian wasteland.

Welcome back DONALD TRUMP –
holding hostage goose
that laid the golden egg.

Axe the old don
a trump peter n piper
of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
with the ha airbrushed pompous ****
so the kiss my a** in Macy's window
paraded jackal hound doth run
after public outcry yelps
for his hide and proletarian discord won!

No matter Donald Duck Trump
i$ - a pompous ***
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
with Kristallnacht broken glass
inciting banal deathly
hallowed expletives toward lass
seen – especially as viewed
on archives from Fox Television
then news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
bracing herself against ogre personality
to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults
from incriminating verbal pass  
so…NO VOTE from me
from such a snooty, petty, haughty
arrogant simian with sass!

I van nah try to describe
while sitting on me ****
how he oh bomb in lee rages
with gnashing teeth while back a slump
blasting democratic nomination as a sham –
from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome
of crass bloviation, a malignant lump,
whose rants sans
presidential outcome a sham bull

with his millions beds this,
that and another woman to ******* jump
disseminating gene pool –
birthing more quackers
and additionally doth ****
the mass media as some foolhardy charade
and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape
erecting taj mahal ******* symbols
where players dump

and gamble away hard earn cash
for his hello kitty,
as if that cachet to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal leering pout
while hair *** red bulls
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed
heady measly shaped muppet
diseased cranial hologram
of a cretaceous,
facetious and insidious measly mump.
December first 2020 equals
thee above named sibling
whereby she completed
LXIII earth orbits around the sun
therefore incumbent upon me
(cuz yours truly to wish happy birthday

at receiving end of much largesse)
to wax poetic regarding beloved sister,
which brother of yours feels blessed
to experience and count
thee as his eldest sibling.

On clocking one year after another,
(which orbitz around the sun)
whip away approximating light speed)
I feel pitched to and fro, hither and yon
into the maws of utter madness,

and thee utmost like an anchor
serve to buttress mine emotional duress
more so acknowledged later in our lives
no matter steadfastness
of heartfelt care and concern

prevailed these three score years of mine
prompting yours truly to reflect
especially those vicissitudes
severely testing psychological mettle,
whether twas mine

tumultuous, opprobrious, hellacious...
descent into abyss of despair
(think bout with anorexia nervosa
that cost me mental, physical
and social expense),

I still figuratively pay the piper,
hence continue to rue
rarely ever taking stock
concerning unwavering love
toward one (me),

who fell short reciprocating gratitude,
where pseudo maternal tendering occurred
during formative boyhood
and even into emerging
adulthood days of mine.

Though just thirteen plus months my senior,
ye donned role as guardian
bullies ye did verbally cuff
when I got decreed as scapegoat
passively resisted brickbats,
til badasses sucker punched,
mocked, chided wimpy me more'n enough,
hence when bullies
saw yar ferocity they ran,

cuz ye took no guff
said mean kids took off in a huff
methinks if only I had therapy dog
named Teddy and/or Ruff
to protect me against thugs,
whose insecurity rocketed
poor little Matthew Scott
they threatened harm
to brag as neighborhood tough.

Gratitude wells up
recognizing worthiness you
exemplify, a spouse
(Richard McGeehan) who
did ardently woo,

after asking to dance pas-de-deux
as lifetime partner,
plus recognized keeper
bonafide then young gal true
lee worth her weight in gold,
or any other precious metal.

Marriage (codified, indemnified, and ratified
June 1990 - courtesy Harvey Whitten),
between ye and ardent husband
will moost definitely stand the test of time
cuz, each to the other a counterpart
analogous to rock of Gibraltar.
Overladen snow covered crackle and crunch
though, this skeptic owned a doubtful hunch
that such 24/7 round the clock whether coverage
would make laughingstock of forecasting
how Jack Frost feigned being out to lunch,
whereby inaccurate weather forecasters
outsmarted courtesy Mother Nature,
where snowfall accumulation tallied
one for the record books, a veritable blizzard
found meteorologists to scrunch

erroneous reports and quickly
retract how surprise Nor'easter
did quickly captcha  
and wallop unsuspecting
sleeping out of towners
whipping surprise out figurative sleeve
when dziadek mróz (Belarusian: Дзед Мароз)
in the Belarusian language
in league with Jackie Frost,  
both personifications getting last laugh

cuz women feel snubbed, shortchanged,
excluded, and being bossed
around feeling pinched at emotional,
physical, and spiritual cost
with million plus women marches
that did exhaust,
yet brought more equitable treatment,
and now risk being lost
in space at the outer limits
of the twilight zone or tossed

into the maws of Earth vis a vis
donning miner for a heart of gold,
where a frayed life line offers tenuous hold
nonetheless, despite risks to life and/or limb
females can experience em bold
dinned journeying
exposing them to in extremis cold
and worthy bets
at gambling halls upon casino bluffing,
thence, slapping (with poker face)

upon table a winning hand
abruptly forcing game to fold
grinning ear to ear while she scoops up gold
repudiating ugly rumors stereotyping women,
within which many other arenas
the devastatingly constricting mold
now upon many another proving grounds
non verbally, smugly,
and proudly assert" I told
you so" garnering, inviting, and

kickstarting kudos where,  
their overdue praiseworthy virtues extolled
which hard fight now pits
more gals to enter the scrum
letting actions speak louder than words
as bragging rights allow them to keep mum
though insinuating
rightful opportunity to whisk plum
ming access, where once (and still
to a lesser degree)

men didst unfairly prune
and hurl cruel names like hey
“scumbag," and/or other unflattering brickbats
versus increasing plaudits showered from
on high spelling victory
toward equality effacing glum
scowl into smile breaking out
finding more men grudgingly
bestowing deserved accolades
re-evaluating experiencing

the fairer *** lobbing smart
aleck nuggets of wisdom, now
despite being a youthful looking
roam'n lxv year old married heterosexual
underscoring, befriending opposite gender
making ladies in waiting
tubby a worthy chum
now, this ***
seeks Alma Mater dames
and graduates of
Hard Knocks School Alum.
Yenson Apr 2020
Craven voices trying to court my feelings
badgering that they should become acquainted
seducing of tales to regale images for conjuring
white-washed monochrome memories in glows tainted

My feelings is wedded to a noble mind obliging
and worships the lit expanse of renaissance humanity
the wholesome enlightenment that proves a soul shinning
in the visage of sublime talents and amour true they find unity

So neither sandstorms or roaches reaches  my feelings
scorpions holds self-made poisons they are cursed to ever carry
T'is scorpions nature though used cost a sting to leave weaklings
my mind serenades my feelings look how thirty years no tarry

Malignant shadows seeks unity with my feelings
but how can mice climb polished enchanted marble towers
blessed in the rays of the rarefied abode with positive ceilings
steadfast belief of the nobility of fellow beings not sheep followers

My feelings are governed by noble ideals
not by the screams of scatterlings or the howls of rats
nor the schema of the ******* minds in delusions unreal
accept my resounding contempt, I'm impervious to senile brickbats

— The End —