An Amish elder named Mullet,
And some of his ****** clan,
bore hatred deep in their gullets
for their Amish fellow man.
****** seemed out of the question,
It’s rare among Amish, folks say,
(It may be that a horse and a carriage
doesn’t make for a quick getaway.)
So Mullet and some of his minions
Invented a new sort of crime:
Shaving their bearded opponents
one Amish man at a time.
Losing one’s beard among Amish-
A disgrace before God, it’s been said.
Mullet spared no woman either
choping the hair from their heads.
His victims are speechless with anger,
denuded of both beards and hair.
Leave it to someone named “Mullet”
To offend using a Barber’s chair.
Mullet’s in Federal custody;
charged with a crime, not a sin.
He refuses to answer the charges
By the hair of his chinny chin chin.

maple-cured, smoked, rawhide hands,
tarantula hands bulldozing rice onto
tines like an icebreaker ramming through

glacial bergs, Holly
Golightly on the tv, on
mute, and oh those hips,

that figure, in that black dress,
banana hands cracking Alaskan king
crablegs and ******* the juice and eating

the meat, legs spindly and hairy
and soaked in butter, dripping,
liver cooking, roasting, sloshed on gin,

cribbage board patinaed
in dust, he eats his liver, downs
another gin, cracks another leg, crab

hair caught in his teeth, Holly talking about
getting the mean reds but he can’t
hear it, his luck run out,

his luck a prize from a box of ******* Jack,
and the snarling throb in his head,
cinderblock face, cinderblock house,

3-day-stubble, has he had enough (to drink)?
not by the stubble of his
chinny-chin-chin,

liver is gone, crab is gone,
so he eats the eyes,
dowsing his ******* Jacks

in gin, yesterday wine-in-a-box
and Cheez-****, sprayed right into his
unbrushed maw, a one-person wine-

and-cheese fête classy as it gets,
he’s Mister High Society,
Cheez-**** crust in his stubble,

and a cinderblock CRASHES to the floor and it’s
lights out, and Holly, still no one
to hear her, saying

she’ll never let anyone put her in a cage.

By a day's difference, and a night's
indifference...angelic flight looses
evasion what was embrace.
The repose of memory blighted by
forgetfulness...seven constitutions
ago that personified the goodly
week of creation.
Incontinent, now...to All Things
small that were big.
Admonished whole by the changeable--
thou fairest...unwell.
Supping thy chinny chin chin--with
world-wearied, and wearying palms...
overgrow The Garden in hopes it may
obscure The Fall.

Silence is a matter of body
Coming towards your language
He's in the lounge on his
(I Pad) looking frightfully cleaver
Slice cake mad
Not the happiest lad
she's wearing her fit to
be tied but feeling upside
down but lifted firmly up
in her falsies cup
 ((Hush  get your rush in silence))

But she failed to make him
these incredible ***** dozen
baking brownies
What a rookie cookie girl
Cannot keep secrets to be silent
But her deadly **** pout
     (( Card-Flush-in silence))
She screams get out!!
The Bill **** she's the
killer eyelashes hot flash
She was quite challenging 
That silvery dainty moon lady
hurrying
She's all capped-plated her knife
crazy eyes
 He's channeling her
Quietly with her bedroom eyes

   ((Rush-Silent-night))

Putting up a fight that's life you win

((The silent love))
Or start over your sin is
the silent killer
The silencer staying put
didn't explode
Her fifties smoking was
her weaknesses
Oh! boy, he had the right high tech glasses

What Belguim chocolate but her
Latte caramel she was quietly
running late more time with her
perishables love doves
(Such patients hospitality above)

What a braggart in her brassiere
She got his attention to look
over here
Over their all in the family
Like an Army military fit, Starwar
skirts super tight something didn't
feel right
They couldn't breathe and
someone asked  her to sit
silently
So uptight down handed
Well guarded she the lady with
wits and guts scorpion landed
Oh! what a killer fights the dust mites

That silent killer lady was not
someone you could trust websites
What a fund money signs on her
forehead but tough elephant's skin
She needed a new hobby silent flirting
Her wrinkled cute puppy dog
What hogwash wearing your
Frownies all wrinkles they say
sometimes owners resemble their
dogs this the Hollywood hot dog
Out of state doggone it townies
obsessions something to die for

(Recent prayer of silence)

Forgive me darling I need to wear my
Frownies I am not going to be around
those loony tunes I needed to make
my getaway faraway really soon
He was wearing his yellow polka
dot bow tie every month of June

Smarties alcoholic anonymous

Malibu Lolobolu Honolulu
I love Lucy she wearing a tutu

All sizes and silent mouths
Things get louder when you're older
Loco in the Cabeza hot blooded
Little red Robin hood so silent
She is looking like a good pair
The silence is killing you  
I wouldn't get one taste out of
Moms French roue'
My Eden garden
Met -us
Something will **** us

The fresh green's healer
The mood set-us
The goods got us

Whats the in-betweens
No-one will ever notice
what's not green
(Like the blindsided lover)

My courage thumb needed
to break the shades of silence,
 To trust the secret promoting
her shampoo anonymous
Overly powerful her weapon
Dennis the menace
Loud as the hippopotamus

Mixed Thomas Islands
the bottom dirt
He was dressed in tweed
What a **** killer bloom
Wearing his stark white shirt
Madmen needed more room
We need the funhouse Amen

Heres looking at you
Stranger/Lover/
Kid/Mother
Your brother of prodigy
The silent scheme chemist
He acts like a psychiatrist
(I am talking he is so silent)

  Like a franchise lemonade
Put your foot down and stand
Her hair mousy brown
the sounds of silence

The fuller up spouse
Met his match fuller brush man
These herbicides hitching a ride

To be silent? This is not the
beauty patent
The mineral-sea-shore comes to the
dead sea
Giant green mutant/Medieval funhouse
Silent track betting racing horse
He's my General-tea-shirt

What are you after- the traveler
Or the loner meeting another drifter
Having tea plea party guilty green-tea-
Monk- by the sea mountain
What we kept Barbie dolls
Looking in the mirror in silence
Seeing the Fountain of youth
Beatle bopping heads
Ketchup packets spicy I pods

Eventually, Gods come to our front door
That chemical stinks cleaning our floor
The smokers teeth yellow the gray
shark Jaw's He Haw
Chinny chin Mr. Jawbreaker
The kitchen should be our
the safest haven, little rascals
Met the ***** scoundrels
Silent killer lady is so driven
Chemicals and health risks
Red silent Rooster
A silent chat his killer smile
Over my dark coffee
Mr. Beanster
Why was I put in this spot
Empty space looks shot

Your egg biscuits
Trilogy game of Triscuits
Wearing a bandana
***** dancing at the
Copacabana

Organic eggs no bacon
With the cabana boy
Hey sardine pork and
My killer beans, O-D and
more coffee!!!
Something renewable
Even if you're a twin double

Phoenix bird beauty of her flight
The silent killer lady didn't
get a decent sleep even one night

Not fancy leafs plain and simple
My smile high cheeks dimple
My Brooklyn tree smiling at
my Mom and Dad that's my
Brooklyn roots

I shed a body or two off
Back when I was in the "Times."

The speckling of my sharpest bones
Was in order
and I still didn't want to go home.
I just wanted to shine.
I just wanted to live like ivory
and dance in the minty ice cream cone
That's melting down your left wrist.

While in the other hand there was this little slip
A piece of paper with a note
About how God can change your life and
Others lives if you can just pray right
and then pay the standing Black Jack off by the closed door.
Would you like anymore
Wisdom from an ******* of grass
Or the company of a church *****?

I want to shed roses out of the garden
and into my mind.
I just want to tell you that you're not mine
and you never will be and
I will never be happy again
Not like I was when
I had no hidden grin
Or when I had no scar on my chest from beating him
Or any manly hair on my chinny chin chin.

I've shined out and timed out of the server.
The service calls me so
I put a gun in my mouth
and sing them the anthem of their nations glow:

The anthem of a lunatic
Praying on a twelve gauge
To bring me back in again.

Bruised teeth and busted lips.

A black smudge down the right side
And your **** are looking back at me.
To make things a little bit harder,

I almost stopped to shudder and erase that last part but I can't now
For it has made its mark.

Trash can journey number six.
Are you in to this?

In bed by eight and then storytime
Lots of time
Just enough time and a short enough memory to know there was a tomorrow
Just enough time and a short enough memory to not understand aging
Until I had plucked all the hairs off my chinny chin chin
And discovered if the big bad wolf was real that he lived inside of me
He ate my years
My dad's pocketwatch was in sync with the grandfather clock
Its tiny hands resonating louder than
The protesting silver cogs
The screaming mahogany treads
"Tik tok...
Tik tok...
Ding. Ding."

It ain't no mountain high-__++
enough heart stickers 2 pluses
But----she's beat like someone's
playdough high setting
diamond in the rough
High level of mercury felt tough
Like the good will hunting

Let's fulfill our dream with
less talking
More snorkeling high hopes
Big escape important titles
Such a Sperling report high crime
she got high hopes
A kiss is not a kiss
Casablanca
Piano many riddles

The delicate mood became the
Joker her low jeweled belly bottom
He could just pinch her
His paint when smoke gets in your long
Eyelashes the temptation her eyes
of infatuation
How he can move
her schoolgirl crush

The mountains
The holiday sweet baked sun cookies
He was lady looker starting
fresh like a rookie

All loving to the end of her earth

The painter Gogh the fine feather brush
Could lift smiles like hot gold rush

Way below I see something
My eyes became the hidden lake,
My body got exposed to the shining light
The Knight high tempo until the daylight
But there is a high price that's all
I could take almost my blindsight
Her body elevated

She sighs the law and order
The highest authority constitution
the movie camera high action
Higher force of her revelation
Like her Crescendo Moon
Hot body stimulation
But she became to see the
lower state of mind taking the
Xanax route

High hopes she touched the
Goddard

The Searching her lips
piercing she losing her grip

What a hot Australian dude swap
Kicking around in his boots the
  rain puddles of love hurdle
The high raft of the tortoise turtles

My heart lies the crescendo
Such a high tempo she screams

Opening up high five
my exclusively yours
Hot five emails to find got
so excited until etc--

A mountain of broken hearts
Luv her favorite journey high
living totally fab
Those hubs and cool London pubs
On the edge of ecstasy but my dark
midnight pup labs jump up the vibe

The earth stood like a still life
The darkness and the red moon
Everything I thought of came true
bleeding
The high sounds of the clock
Striking at midnight
I felt the coach driving up the
Godmother not the fairest of Bees
They were swarming high seas
And left me on my scared knees

Some leftover Crescendo of honey
His chinny chin Big Foot beard-man
High waist lady gold bonds
of money

Howling wolf complex mixture
of her body curves too many

Symphonies playing
Like something never failed
Seeing the beauty rainfall
Mermaid Tail

Like the crest of
Tsunami all the selfie's
MeMe high tea hours
100 feet he could
of very well
wanted so much
to kiss her high-cheeks
But finding the treasure
lips curved-low

Italiano tempered the wicked concert
Concerto higher up temptation
High tempo hot soup
Louisiana red hot tabasco
 You gotta have her gumbo

Going to the Mountaintop
Mr. Concerto meeting
the computer
Mr. Dumbo what an
Mc Jumbo
burger the "Clicker Bar"
The stars eating away
The greens of her eyes
Living in a hut spitting
pits of olives 
 
Spicy ladies of pimento
In young and restless town
Sacramento
She was sitting her name Sofia  
High rise body elevated
The wicker chair (Loren)
Contemplated
Hearing a sharp squeak
of his shoe that is his affair
He was walking
toward her

He fired out pool shark
Like the Crescendo cafe all neck
out like giraffes to dusk at night
Two heads are stirring
better than one smooth
spread Jiffy butter
Enjoying their cappuccino
the flamingo dancers the bodies
sway together to be engaged
Licks of her envelope
He kissed up to her first sip
Hot mouth expresso

The Pacific high tempo soprano
the mountain can be terrific
Be more specific

That girl Marlo with the
 higher latitude in St Thomas
it won't bring back
a love quicker
Our minds get slower
Using her useless hair blower
"Pacific Crest Inn"
Mind controller
Bathing on sun worshipping
What a star turning point

But lower and deserted on an island
Like smoking the sun up with a joint
the Apennines Italy like pennies for
her thought
The lust crest of her waving high
Surrender my love (Silverback)
Glitter silver high tent

Rainforest of Gorillas
Monkey *** swinging and surfing the
High society ladies what a fly-by event
High Apple Martinique the computer
Felt flooded like she could use a drink
Yes we have bruised bananas and
horn-blowers those outfitters
out of their minds towners
They never leave the crazy freeloaders
Shell be coming around your mountain

High tempo voice meet
Tatiana of the  black crow plantation

Feeling the soulful E-Harmony
Coupling eyes of tears Seattle
Cows and sheep all stacks of hay cattle
Right now her salvation she needed
something lighter not exactly higher
The Sierra Nevada crest she looked up
She went back to her Mediterranean villa
Looking at her pearly white teeth
And said what is with all this crest
I have the best hours with
my crest toothpaste lower teeth
being brushed to the higher height of
my top mountain teeth
That crescendo
was my new birth

Maybe family roots are calling, so I'll sing back.
Maybe the "streets is watching" -- so I'll wink back.
A city, teeth-deep in tragedy that still talks back.
Detroit, I think we've got something in common, maybe I'll come back.

In the gut of the city, see spots gutted, yeah I know the feeling.
rough and tough, been through enough but there's still bigger-badders threatening.
They say they'll huff, and then they'll puff, and blow your house down again.
This just got hairy, not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.

In the aftermath of perfect disasters in a domino series,
all eyes glue on the ruins, scanning for signs of life & death amid debris,
it's prime-time on Tragedy Channel for train wreck week,
strollin' out of the dirt with a smirk...hey D ---look we're on TV.

Wearing hurt like a shirt, Detroit you're my remedy.
That heartbeat, that house drum, that low, growling energy.
Many think this city is dwindling, Detroit lights are dimming lately.
But listen for that low hum, under the pavement, feel the rumble under your Nikes.

An army survivors, are-me's telling stories in different ways.
Listen to my movement, see me be the music, throttle always open, Motor-City made.
Watch feet jittin' and go cross-eyed, 3000 RPMs in one take.
Music-macguyvers throwing backspins into air-flares, on the snow or in the rain.

Maybe family roots are calling, so I'll sing back.
Maybe the "streets is watching" -- so I'll wink back.
A city, teeth-deep in tragedy that still talks back.
In this city I see myself, we're both about to make a come-back.

i can still remember what your
distressed denim
jeans felt like
beneath my
beating pillow
fingers and how you swore
you saw the Moon
in my throat
you said you spoke to Him
when you kissed me deep
and He told you
that even a great white shark
has a great soft heart
and that even a lion
will bleed when it is met by
a twig
but not even the Moon will tell
you that when i felt your leg
and touched your mango
knee I fell in love with the
tree that beared your fruit
so sweet-nothing salamander
when i see your sweet-nothing
smile i will count sheep in your
teeth and pull the hairs
from your chinny-chin-chin
and i will huff and puff and
blow your ******* *******
house down
and i will plant a mango tree
in its place

The pigs want a part of this action
No way are they going to oink this alone
They don't know  how but they're going to make it happen
The only draw back is the lack of thumbs

How in the world did those cows hold the hammers?
Where did the sheep get all their ideas?!
After all it's the goats with the brains!
Them and all of their kids

They don't need that big of a rocket
Room enough for a bucket of slop and a couple pigs with a grin
Asked how many were in the mood for adventure
Not by the hair of their chinny chin chins

Some of the little piggies were off at the market
Some little piggies would rather stay home
To eat all the newly purchased roast beef
Which left the other piggies with none
But most of the piggies would rather just wee wee at home

I guess when it comes to the pigs
And adventurous spirits they seem to have none
They find enjoyment on earth in the back yard
Laying around wallering in mud

In any future this is instant,
in real life these thoughts once fitted into words by a mind,
fit into the spirit of Christmas in 1984,
I am betting my
cred -- wagering my very defined sould idea
it was the real 1984
eleven days after my first born child…

-if I yet have credit, having spent all my own attention on
finding the evil
lurking somewhere in today, waiting to pounce,
seeking with legendary,
fabulous, monstrous civil strife level pride events
reason to call
provocation to devour
my soul, my unsouldout soul, my held
breath of life,

waiting for this surface to break, patient as any
app attempting to become
Gibsonian ICE!... in your patience you possess…

Ah, cotcha. This quote is from a stream of words -emanating-
in the global pool of streaming
news of bygone days. Dec.23, 1984 on accusing voices…
Satan the idea…
A message:
The people who will experience the fullest meaning of Christmas on Tuesday
are the people who know and feel that there is something
in them that needs to be destroyed.
It is true, as John said (John 3:17), that
"God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world,
but that the world through him might be saved."
But he saves by destroying.
Like a doctor who amputates a foot full of gangrene or cuts out a cancerous lung.

From <https://www.desiringgod.org/messages/the-son-of-god-appeared-to-destroy-the-works-of-the-devil>

Right. So far. Now. Who whets the edge?
I care less if you guess my name,
stranger,
works; if you find you may entertain a stranger with no sense of pending danger,
see,
afore mentioned cutting,
was mistaken instruction. A missed meaning,
hamartia aitia sort of glitch in the interpretation, privately,
by the muckety mucks,

(by the hair on my chinny chin chin we must shave away the fungus)

The torn flesh
of realities with actual purpose was, intending to repair it self,
using, right, a single stitch.
In a word.
Yet, wait…
Usury found a way to own the story of the act. So,
early autumn, fires raging, smoke obscuring meaningful
right observation of the arrival of Christmas Decorations at Walmart,
in the memorable year,
2020, I heard a sound,
bah trumpa trump trump,
in September,
the one all connected minds shall never remember not
having,
we made up our mind to act on the original anointed mind idea,
let it spread,
like calmin' balm on truly chapped hide.

We all got our differences, 'n' all, viva la

la la la
but we all have right use, too. The idea is not so hard to imagine,
unless you mind is broke, I get stuck in first person,

being broke and woke is a zeitgeistical joke.
We see our neighbors on Hulu,
even in Beijing, if we have the proper world citizen VPN.

Do you hear what I hear? Is this that brat with the drum,
again? Bahtrumpatrumptrump…

merry anointing message, may it trickle through your beard,
and tickle little ears with hope unimagined,
before 2020 made mental time travel so common.

{go tulsi, go, go, go}

I inhale and memories come knocking on the door.

They beacon,they call
They chant and knock hard

That door must remain closed
They must not be let in.
Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin.

They still knock,they still holler
They bang and shake

But the door will remain closed

her walls begin to crumble,
falling slowly to the dirt.
hammer in hand,
she tries and tries to build it up.
too much hurt in this world.
brick walls held the big bad wolf back, right?
but they can't hold him back.
he smashes through the walls,
twirling her heart about on his finger.
then crying, he huffs and he puffs
but by the hair of her chinny chin chin she lets him in.
he cradles her heart,
in his big hands,
and tears of regret, fill the holes.
but unexpectedly,
he rips open her heart with his broken hands,
and says it was all a lie.
she starts building her walls again,
positivity and loved ones help her.
it will take a while to fix her heart,
but one day she won't need those **** walls.
one day,
she'll be able to live in a house of straw,
and happy and safe, she can be.

Where to begin?
With a spin! With a sin!
But you've spilt all your wine
Down your chinny-chin-chin...

The neighbors are talking
Though I hate to relay
The concern that they show
For it drains fun away

You're just having fun
So you say, so you say
The spinning helps get you
Up, up and away

Your advances are tainted
By slur and by sway
You stumble and fumble
What an awkward display

Ah, now I sound judgy
My teeth grin and gnash
And I know I've grown pudgy
From all of the hash

But my tells are subtle
Not in people's face
You're stuck in a puddle
You'll fall on your face

I want to repair it;
We want to be free;
We'll **** and impair it,
...Him, you, and me.

My application's been rejected out of hand 'cause they suspected that it wasn't filled in honestly
well
****** me,
I answered all as best I could
I didn't lie or if I did I hope they won't find out, (touch wood and spit)

They've decided not to let me in, that little clique who know no sin, the little *******, I ought to punch them on their chin or chins or 'chinny chin chins'

But I like pork and I could talk about it all day long, boiled and grilled,
pulled or fried I've tried them all and all the little pigs can do is bawl,
you can't come in
you can't come in,
ha
chin chin's no chinaman you're going in the frying pan.

If I puff a puffle more that tenny weeny matchstick door is firewood
yes
yes
I am that good.

anyone for chops?

We all need a touchstone, an amulet, a lucky charm and there's no harm in any of this, if you kiss the witches hand and she grants you just one wish
what would your wish be?

To see for one more time and take another breath before that time is due?

Would you light the candles at a mass believing that will is what will come to pass or kiss a frog and make believe a fairy tale came true?

I have seen beyond the pyramids before the pharaoh,
did that one die?

It maybe that he did, but each dynasty will rise and cry, be wary for the wary try to garner courage from the death and in this death another cry,
I saw then blood bleed from the sky.

I am boxed in, mummified, I cried my woe and know that vices turned on me.
Chinny chin chin may fit the rhyme but ancient as I am I do not have the time for this.
I kiss the Blarney, Stone me I must be barnyard barmy and they're farming me out to 'Soylent Green'

Where I used to have hair
Now I have it no more
Where I used to not
Now it's starting to grow

From the tops of my toes
To the tip of my nose
The in and out of  my ears
Not to mention my derriére

From the front of my knees
To the back side if you please
On my knuckles it grows
First and second joint

My eyebrows now look
Like a caterpillar that's spawning
There's not an odd spot
That my hair is not growing

From my chinny chin chin
To the mole on my back
There are so many new places
That new hair is at

As I'm getting old
It's crazy where the hair grows
And that's only the places I see
Where I can't, lord only knows

helios kissed his sizzled skin as
phidias chizelled his chinny-chin
a smolder blessed by the devil, easing
a steazy haze and happy glaze
right in the sparkle of his eye
ooh me, what a coo-coo—i swoon!
boy you got me here
writing poetry too soon

Methinks hmm, perhaps
I admittedly self plagiarize and quite aware
aforementioned amalgamated, conglomerated,
fabricated, jerry rigged, and organized
eye gripping titled
poem already aired a year plus ago,
though revisiting said theme
downplayed now as thoughts blare,

though similarly filched content
(pertaining to other literary endeavors)
invariably glommed electronically
(digitally remastered and remixed),
nevertheless gobbledygook enigmatically
jerkily, and quirkily communicated,
sans trademark Pi Seine (seen) fishtail career
as applies to uber secreted questions.

This chap challenges himself,
an immense task I dare
unleash unbounded kickstarting euphoria
within psychic calm and weal
with a healthy dose of logorrhea
scowl unintentionally anonymous reader
mine re: noun verbosity doth ensnare
though oft times obfuscation veils merely

a black hole sun (son) prominence
asthma faux eminence amber gris
long ago didst flare
aware if chance encounter
in a dark alley coal less sing
burning eyes fiercely glare
yet, an explanation
would be proffered to hear.

Most instances when I initially seat
myself priming creative literary juices to flow,
an unspecified number hours elapse
before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh
NASA hiss (Onassis) revelation transpires
witnessing, this scruffy, prickly, grow
tusk long haired woolly creature
out malm mouth drool dripping
trademark characteristic viz
pencil neck geek
madly scratching itchy hairs

dotting chinny chin chin of
garden variety generic hobo
hook huns hitters hymns elf
tubby frank and ernest poet;
home body (nowhere man);
beetle browed fool on the hill;
common everyday fluky,
nippy, nap noopy common Joe,
just biden his time,
whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea
comes home to stir the roost.

(Hard boiled eggheads merely
scrambled random thought fragments
at that stage) scrunching brow
activates laser focus,
a scattershot burst
of tangential threads populate
formerly barren tabula rasa,
sans, Lenovo external screen
once again defying (tomb me
akin to some eternal mystery),

trucked since time immemorial
inexplicable, that sudden ignition
asper cerebral automatic
catalytic converter kickstarter
(hmm...perhaps cogs and gears
housed within medulla oblongata)
foster fecund fertilization,
an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know
explanation, but upon advent
whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate

coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life
when there appears just the merest hint
of fledgling wispy notions strive similar
to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis,
via flagellation motility misfits
and false starts before this crotchety scribe
mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea
congeals, expresses, and forms
grandiose manifest destiny
mentioned above i.e. ***

Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis
seems like a versatile
self determining Motorhead
(ace of spades) tour de force,
whereat fingers of the left hand
move of their own volition spilling forth poe
whet tree once expanded Leaves (of Grass)
finds me Waltzing Whitman nigh hick cull
tickled pink with a soft after glow.

This penchant spurring confabulation
explaining (feebly) zest
yours truly experiences
expatiating honest to dog ness
figuratively go win west
hoard (word) ** seeking
mine own mother lode acquired,
via verse a tile material undergoing
electric kool aid acid test
incorporating rigorous (mortise
and tenon constructed) adverbial quest
which wondrous, whirled,

and webbed woven semicolon aided nest
reinforced with double entendre
tongue in cheek jest,
whereby multiple interpretations
(ala mode literary splotchy Rorschach test)
tenants in common beau geste
ma bell heavable own home spun faux
Cambridge Analytica
Jimmy Crack corn and I don't care
gimcrackery defaced facebook best
bite, with absolute zero
data snatched aye evasively attest.

Methinks hmm, perhaps
aforementioned conglomerated eye gripping titled,
poem already aired
though revisiting said theme
downplayed as thoughts blare
though similar content
invariably communicated,
sans trademark Pi Seine fishtail career
as applies to other questions.

This chap asks himself,
an immense task I dare
unleash unbounded kickstarting euphoria
within psychic calm and weal
with a healthy dose of logorrhea
scowl unintentionally reader
mine re: noun verbosity doth ensnare
though oft times obfuscation veils merely

a black hole sun (son) prominence
asthma faux eminence amber gris
long ago didst flare
aware if chance encounter
in a dark alley coal less sing
burning eyes fiercely glare
yet, an explanation
would be proffered to hear.

Most instances when I initially seat
myself priming creative literary juices to flow,
an unspecified number hours elapse
before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh
NASA hiss revelation transpires
witnessing, this scruffy, prickly,
and madly scratching itchy hairs
dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo

hook huns hitters hymns elf
tubby a generic home
er run (hitting) mill
(on the floss sing false teeth)
common everyday fluky,
nippy, nap noopy common Joe,
just biden his time,
whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea

(Hard boiled eggheads merely
scrambled random thought fragments
at that stage) scrunching brow
activates laser focus,
a scattershot burst
of tangential thread populate
formerly barren tabula rasa,
sans, Lenovo external screen
once again defying (tomb me
akin to some eternal mystery),
trucked since time immemorial

inexplicable, that sudden ignition
asper cerebral automatic
catalytic converter kickstarter
(hmm...perhaps cogs and gears
housed within medulla oblongata)
foster fecund fertilization,
an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know
explanation, but upon advent
whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate

coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life
when there appears just the merest hint
of fledgling wispy notions strive similar
to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis,
via flagellation motility misfits
and false starts before this crotchety scribe
mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea
congeals, expresses, and forms
grandiose manifest destiny
mentioned above i.e. **
Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis
seems like a versatile

self determining Motorhead tour de force,
whereat fingers of the left hand
move of their own volition spilling forth poe
whet tree once expanded leaves (of grass)
finds me Waltzing whitman nigh hick cull
tickled pink with a soft after glow.

This penchant spurring confabulation
explaining (feebly) zest
yours truly experiences
expatiating honest to dog ness
figuratively go win west
hoard ** seeking
mine own mother lode acquired,
via verse a tile material undergoing
electric kool aid acid test
incorporating rigorous (mortise
and tenon constructed) adverbial quest
which wondrous, whirled,

and webbed woven semicolon aided nest
reinforced with double entendre
tongue in cheek jest,
whereby multiple interpretations
(ala mode literary splotchy Rorschach test)
tenants in common beau geste
ma own home spun faux
Cambridge Analytica
Jimmy Crack corn and I don't care
gimcrackery defaced facebook best
bite, with absolute zero
data snatched aye evasively attest.

Soap flake snow
and a plastic
candy cane path

to the gingerbread house
and velvet throne
where he sat

cheeks rosy
and oh so so jolly
with a little help

from a magic flask
and it goes without saying
those were the days

risky yes
but that was most of the fun
feeling so free

riding our Christmas bikes
without helmets
pretending we were pilots

flying without charts
barnstorming
hook or by crook

or

our chinny chin chin
and by the worn-out seat
of our corduroy pants

With a title deeply rooted
in subject matter iterated above
invariably makes for hair raising poem,
though I immediately attest said material
constitutes atypical topic
the writing process (with intent
to share bizarre pet peeve)
mildly cathartic to ameliorate
long established body dysmorphia,
(which lifelong aversion

about how body electric
of mine - a corporeal entity housing
an aging baby boomer wordsmith),
steeped with lifetime worth
of disproportionate outsize importance
linkedin to those fibrous
harried styled brunette strands
sustained courtesy by tiny blood vessels
at the base of every follicle
buzzfeeding the hair root to keep it growing.

But once the hairs
becomes visible
(not just on my chinny chin chin),
but more so at the skin's surface,
the cells within the strand of hair
aren't alive anymore.

The hair you see on every part
of your body contains dead cells.

Nevertheless empirical evidence
witnessed bajillion dollar industries,
where many an entrepreneur
made a bundle of money
buttressing caparisoning oneself
aspiring to attain exemplification
towards how western civilization
(and subsequently webbed wide world)
defines contrived beautify.

Yours truly (particularly during
his emotionally tumultuous adolescence)
for all intents and purposes
most all each of his
life long journey into night,
he considered himself afflicted
with obsessive compulsive behavior in general,
and incongruous objection
with arbitrary template
of attraction (as applies
to the male species) in particular.

As a cute little boy
with strawberry blonde hair
kept cropped short to scalp
acquired motherly
endearment of "little monkey,"
accompanied courtesy pinch of cheeks
yet outgrew both imposition of buzz cut
and appellation, yet bananas
as passion fruit never faded
but parental decree to schedule appointments
with barber became vehemently reviled.

I vaguely recollect demonstratively
niggling, remonstrating, and voicing
strong objection, ne protestation
against getting a haircut
(in tandem with gesticulations)
as aladdin upper grades of elementary school,
whereby parents quickly relented
allowing, enabling, and providing
their singular sole son opportunistic
fostering unhealthy relationship
growing his long luscious locks
with what in short order became
nonestablishmentarian true trademark.

Fixation as a vitamin ******
peculiarly evolved whereby
ingesting over the counter supplements
(despite evidence to the contrary)
buzzfeeds limp tresses
lacking pseudo/quasi Jewfro
(a curly, frizzy, or bushy hairstyle
worn by some Jewish people,
reminiscent of an Afro)
sported by yours truly
during his emerging adulthood.

The following words crafted soon after the soul of me daddy set adrift into the empyrean realm joining the rank and file of entities constituting spiritus mundi.

Borne aloft into the netherland
the body bearing thee soul  
of Boyce Brandon Harris
birth name given to my late father
buoyed into the great beyond
united with spirit
of mine late mother Harriet,
whose passing well nigh nineteen
orbitz of the earth around the sun.

Elysian fields embraced dada's soul
which rocketed into aerospace
(courtesy General Electric satellite)
just a tadpole more than three
earth orbitz and a half years ago,
when venerated, loved,
and celebrated then nonagenarian
on par with jumping frog
of calaveras county,  
(whose captor disguised
as toad tilly grim reaper)
went a courtin for fresh corpse,
nevertheless melancholy
still plucks mine heart strings.

Mine psyche still situated awry
placid countenance of yours truly doth belie
residual sadness easily prompted
can easily trigger me to cry
linkedin when grim reaper gloated
October 7th, 2020,
he did somewhat peacefully die
(courtesy congestive heart failure),
though methinks immortality
I did briefly espy,
when miracles of modern medicine
tried, but could not
stave off mortality nor fortify
depredations of aging concerning
one (back during his boyhood)
a wunderkind, whose accomplishments
evinced a lad who pulled out all the stops
laudatory when a young handsome guy,
whose intelligence scored high
native talent aptitude tests did imply,
an august presence
his person, especially birthday celebrated,
lorded over, regaled and touted
like fourth of July
completely unlike yours truly
pitifully jejune existence well nigh.

The late polymath and scientifically astute
Boyce Brandon Harris
exhibited prolific talents at young age
aside being scholastically gifted,
acquiring graduate degree
courtesy Columbia University,
freshly minted mechanical engineer,
(he admirably ranked within
uppermost percentile academically),
I hashtag thy mine deceased father
(a Renaissance man
- jack-of-all-trades),
who possessed (née excelled)
at diverse creative abilities.

Aside from being schooled
as mechanical engineer,
(which courses in mathematics and science
he passed with flying colors)
his mind genetically bequeathed
to craft almost anything under the sun
evidenced first by yours truly,
the second offspring and sole son
who ofttimes felt intimidated
at being in presence
of said versatile person.

Handicrafts included
expending blood, sweat, and tears
coercing, fabricating, invoking
earth, wind, and fire elements of style
to craft multitude of projects;
i. building me Flintstone (foot powered)
car with wooden license plate

ii. making playhouse for all three
of us - his progeny;
iii. amassing wood pile(s)
to stoke wood burning stoves;
iv. designing Zayda trail
for Teddy and Ruff
(two doggone mixed breed Border Collies

rescued courtesy youngest sister
at her Jacobsburg,
Pennsylvania work site);
v. constructing sauna in cellar;
vi. etching, detailing (al fresco);
vii. plus trimming living room ceiling
with dainty crown moulding;

viii. shingling (while fiddling) on the roof;
ix. tiling the kitchen floor;
x. building a cistern for brethren,
xi. wood paneling many rooms;
xii. building custom made toy chest;
xiii. stringing up lights to increase visibility
driveway lit like Christmas tree after dark;

xiv. partly assembled a kayak;
xv. Rehabilitated derelict houses
in Norristown, Pennsylvania
xvi. retooling - enhancing porch
with tiles (formerly slate covered),
where Morris dancers performed
at wedding for eldest sister.

Unlike him who did beget me,
I experienced cognitive challenges
that beset one painfully shy
and severely introverted male
more to the point
as a lad and mediocre student to boot
promotion to next highest grade
occurred just by the skin of my teeth
and analogously, figuratively, and poetically
nearly shaved née scalped,
butchered of me pilgrim's pride

thankfully peach fuzz bewhiskered
fine hairs of my chinny chin chin,  
staved off retention
never forcing me to repeat a grade,
which may help to explain
why I wear dentures,
oh... these choppers
then worn for about
one eighth of mein kampf livingsocial.

A sense of inadequacy prevailed,
when absolute zero self esteem
strikingly and suddenly manifested
in tandem when parents moved
their young tender family within
Lower Providence School District,
but into a vaunted larger house
(initial summer estate constituted
about one hundred acres of woodland -
named Glen Elm
think Winnie the Pooh -
house at Pooh corner).

Not quite two score plus ten years
spent livingsocial at 324 Level Road
(above mentioned abode alluded),
and twas there majority
mine existential highs and lows,
where nadir of mein kampf transpired,
I emotionally hit rock bottom
upon onset of prepubescence
yet major event triggering
mine major depression
set in motion,
when parents chose February 28th, 1968
to move out of shoddily constructed domicile
located on Lantern Lane.

As shared with Renee Cardone,
(the therapist whose virtual sessions
linkedin courtesy Doxy.me portal -
similar to Zoom),
that aforementioned date
marked a turning point
after which time, I floundered
experienced irrevocable mental health issues
punctuating my psychological equilibrium
with chronic distress,
though I forgive father and mother,
who unwittingly made decision
how uprooting their offspring
to move without consulting
either yours truly, or older
and younger sisterly sibling.

I describe my baboon as baboon-shaped. Her name's Babs, which is
short for baboon. Sunday I pushed her to the library where we were
given a library balloon. It had snot on it, the balloon, because the li-
brarian had the Shanghai flu. I'll take my free-book-borrowing busi-
ness to Havana, Cuba, where snotty librarians are chippy chipper &
well & they never trim their dry quims & they're not bound for hell.

ᴀ ʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏꜰ ᴇɴᴅᴏʀᴘʜɪɴꜱ
Hallelujah! I will hang on and you will hang on (& we will hang on)  by the hairs of our chinny-chin chins, if only to experience the "orgasmical"~ "climaxical" ~ "orgiastical" rush of endorphins upon learning of the excruciatingly-prolonged suffering of every woogie-******* reprobate who ever ******* us over, AMEN!