Oatmealed and omeletted, start to a dull grey Seattle day
Mutual “Good morning” yawns wait the elevator gruzz
Cheery maid vacumates my room in a swirl of efficiency
Brundling my notes and my PC together I walk to work
Strumphing along beside the fumes of the grundling traffic

Email mountains confabulate the uncoffeed hordes
Typed kerattle the calm before the budget storm
Subterranean stocks desphorror of legal gamblers
Bonehead logic meets dumbling marketing aspirations
Now silent nerbling excuses of cur-whipped executives

Micawber’s message crystal in strangression of promises
Fundamental economics the only possible bankerage
Blood will flow in abattoir of management incastrophies
Doe-like and frembling in the light of impending execration
The stapression painfully personal as reality bites as last

Beer time comfrunks gather early in a huddle of hope
Sheep-like they absorb the tendralations of others’ fears
Remonstressing their misfortune in a depression of dinner
Relaxed at last in a hopefindation of beer goggle logic
Sleepfully staring at the mortgage arreared ceiling

My thankful escape to the Murakamied Sputnik symphony
Harmony in the silence of solitaricious nightcap with Hilton Mark
Wishing I was home now with my cuddlicious girl again
Grateful for loving and living in this aventacular world
I quietly srift off to sleep in a snozzle of sweet dreams

when on a lark, this primate shut his eyes
   until sight formed slits doubling up as a wink
this earthling stared hard and scrunched brow
   unintentionally mimicking,

   the familiar Auguste Rodin statue
   likened to a pose when one doth think
perhaps said captive pose pondering
   (similar to me) about life on other planets

   while I stared at lunar surface
   akin to a disc or dime sized skating rink
awash with luminescence
   and imaging himself whisked away

   by an alien, synonymous
   to the peculiar millions miles distant pastische
   manifested entity than didst slink
a non hue man feline looking cat in the hat

   comical creatures decked out entirely in pink
soft halos conjured up saintly mink
or...a far fetched thought suddenly
   came to form in my mind,

   that this har creature a found missing link
whose nocturnal glowing facade exploding charade
   possibly a message
   or motion nothing more

   than routine smoothing out an anatomical kink
on front and back oh head resembling
   a Doctor Zeus characterization,
   viz a harmless rat fink

hm...maybe a vestigial progenitor
   of former birth by Gaia now extinct
though from afar, the b52 shaped being
   aye espied as fur ball affixed

   with a long elephant like snout to drink
and appeared to lack occipital orbs,
page number two:  

   yet evinced possible mode to see via a *****
impossible to restrain me noggin
   appearing to nod and blink,
--------------------------------
hence entranced my attention fixed
   from faint (perhaps a feint)
   flickr ring meant as playful faux
   role playing lunatic humorous acting wry

impossible to decode explicit antics
   (of spacial cosmic guest),
   no matter eyes nearly shut tight visual
   wondering if non verbal communication

   of mine correctly interpreted
   meant to kibitz and vie
despite impossibility to validate,
   a continuous effort yours truly did try

fixing thy gaze nee straining
   with alm aye might to esse spy
if cheap trick concocted entire visage,
   which might not constitute life form

   (admitting this chap to prevaricate,
   and be full of baloney),
   himself prone to confabulate
   (dropped one to many times on the head)
   when this rocky lunar image,
   a moon scape comprising nothing
   boot ham and cheese on rye.

A gift wrapped prose
of undraped words
to confabulate or obfuscate
An incantation in every metre

It conjures a spell
on those that dwell
by their torpid state
in somnolent walls of each stanza

Never counts its lines
nor vocalize what rhymes, openly
'cause you won't ever tell
that you're in hell with the Devil's poetry.

Lurking in the corner
Of the conference room
Whispers
A Tete-a-tête confabulate

Enough of the palaver
We have to move on
There are more
Impressive issues
To discuss

No need to
Extrapolate
Don’t make a fuss

Whatever happened
To the days of;
Honor
Virtuousness
integrity of probity

The political campaigns
has become mudslinging
*** for tat
We lost the sustenance of
Where we are about

Despite the
Moderators
Best efforts
Opposing sides
Still remain
Intransigent

Most people are
Betwixt between
A rock, and a hard case

Family Friends on
Opposing sides
In Retribution
They stoop to
Degradation

Some find
It difficult
To conform
To propriety

Struggling
to fit in
With Society

Perplexed
We are at
An impasse

An impression
Unsustained
Does not last

That is the dilemma!