The one time I argue back,
Anytime I speak my mind,
Every time I take a stand,
It's just the darndest, cutest thing.

The one time I'm feeling mad,
Anytime I scowl or smirk,
Every time I've had enough,
It's just too **** adorable.

The one time I back away,
Anytime I shrink with fear,
Every time I am afraid,
It's just because I'm dadgum cute.

Let's be fair; what can you do?
Listen? Psht! Respect me? Ha!
How could that be possible
When I'm just so adorable?

I click out of garish pop-up, eyes burnt from the white, and lick my lips.

Cheese. Grease. Onions. Oregano.

as I don't do the dishes and the beer bottles mount an army around my room,
holding their necks in an offended reaction to my distasteful behavior.

I sit here and try my darndest not to spend money because it seems
possession are the only thing that can fill my holes fully while I lie here empty

wishing I had something living in this room

and thinking about how I should take a poll
of how many boys I've been with that wear
old spice.

I am successful, on paper. But.

If attachment is suffering, then why does being desensitized feel so brittle and empty (?) .

Don't answer that question. I don't know how much of it is a lie.

Lonely god
Sailing in your blue ship
Come and take a rest
Put your feet up for a moment
Grab some tea, and a banana
Then of course, dash away from this peace
Back into your wild exhilarating fray
Lonely man
Why all the adrenaline?
I think you fight and adventure thus
To escape your loneliness and sadness
The adrenaline rush just exists to distract
I think you search and wander
To gain vengeance on wicked evildoers
Because they stole your family and
Wrenched your hearts apart
But now picking up the fallen pieces
Pasting them back together
I think they gave you a motive, a purpose
And some extra strength
Your eyes burn with a fire
Irresistable to all
And fatal to some
But usually just a playful, longing spark
Only wanting the best for those you love
And trying your darndest
As you sail with no direction
But the ebb and flow of the tide
On the ocean of pain and trouble

Alone, with nowhere wondering

When back in Hawaii, I feel it better with you.
North of the Eggs 'n things where I puked.
The grass could be so darndest. Smiling only to attract the bugs.
Just because & only then...Could you smile.
The leaves smacking air into my lungs or was it the hybrid, that lept with such oomph.
Looking at my shoelace until It's been a while.
Cig running ruin into brain, counting looks at your hand.
& I, without a plan.
Sometimes you spoke.
Of dreams rampant, organs bearable in confusion.
I only wanted to say hello.
Standing on the stern, peering out over harbor.
Getting closer even though You knew.
Through trees, peering into your eyes & much colors that never threw...concern.
Just Closed.
& fine.
As if the the view of you At North shore anew.
Never arrived

Garrett Johnson.

Is this what God meant for ya?
Feeding a geriatric dementia,
Along with no more agonising,
Over long gone wedding rings,
In life, I have learnt one thing,
Dementias say the darndest things!

I overheard two kids talking,
They say the darndest things,
In the span of 5 minutes, they were laughing, crying, arguing.
They argued about who was faster,
They laughed at jokes I didn't get.
They whispered plenty secrets,
Double-dared and made some bets.
"I can run around you a million times in two minutes"
"But I have a glue that slows you down,
The more you run around in it"
"Mr. Fernandez, you have to pick!
Him or me, who is faster?
"Don't look at me, I'm not getting in the middle of this matter.
You both need to solve this.
Don't fight or throw a fit.
"Okay, fine! I got it, we'll play tag then and you're it!
And as they ran off laughing,
That's when I realized.
They're just kids but they know what it means to truly be alive.

I can show you exactly what it feels like
to miss someone-
I can show you the meaning of a real
tender love- unconditional,
and give you all of it in an analogy
about watering plants or something,
and pray that you'll listen for a second
and learn about me,
but sweetheart,
expectations are the vapors that escape my whispers,
and they can't be seen
as much I can't be heard,
and I know they won't be remembered
when I blow them in your face,
seductively or not.
I know you know how to play a ***** game.
And while I'll try my hardest,
my darndest to play it better-
I know what it requires.
I know you have it and I don't, and if I were to,
I wouldn't be your sweetheart, would I now?
No, I wouldn't be me-
and every time I realize how much power
I give that stellar smile of yours,
sweetheart,
it doesn't seem to show up.
I know when it shows up, though, because it always does.
It shows up when I've lost hope,
and I'm feeling flighty, lost, and ready to beg-
when I'm terrified it'll never show up again,
it shows up,
and I feel saved.
But tonight, it's going to play differently,
sweetheart.
And I know you'll chop this up nice and fine,
to be something you're proud of me about,
because you know,
I'm just your little sweetheart,
but tonight,
I'm going make something out of this empty I feel
when you're not around.
I'm going fill it up with my stellar smile,
and show myself the meaning of a real
tender love-unconditional.
I'm going to take the loneliness that fills me,
break it up on this piece,
and smoke it away
while learning my life is better,
sweetheart,
without playing your games.

Tried my darndest to forget, but should have known
That doggone memory of yours has a mind of its own
Never lets up, forever haunting me like a megalomaniac
Peace for day or two, then without warning it comes back

Take some pills or get drunk to forget feeling of being sad
But, next morning your memory is back and twice as bad
Keep busy at work, think positively and try not to feel blue
I relax and unwind it takes over again, **** memory of you

Up and left without notice, you ran off with another man
For weeks crying myself to sleep, not able to understand
Wasn't enough? piercing my heart with a venomous spear
Please take your memory back and just make it disappear

Had some fabulous times with you, there's nothing I regret
Please keep your memory to yourself now and let me forget
Mind becomes a bit clearer each day as apart we have grown
Home alone at night your memory comes back, mind of it's own

To get on with my life now would make me so very very glad
Even the fondest memories of you now only make me feel sad
Nothing I would love better than to meet another woman one day
Won't happen if you don't take back your memory and pack it away

Need to do things properly, don't like to do things by halves
Got rid of your clothes, belongings and all the photographs
Now at night when I can't sleep I look up to God and I pray
Ask if he'll get you to come and take your dang memory away

Always thought your memory would be something to keep
Not now! it gives mixed emotions and keeps me from sleep
There's nothing worse I reckon than having a grown man cry
With your memory bugging me I just want to curl up and die

Heartbreak and pain is worse every day, so I've discovered
Please help me, by keeping your memory home in a cupboard
Keep it to yourself and don't let it loose to wander and roam
Please control that memory of yours, it has a mind of it's own

haven’t thought about it in a while
but in a lifetime of wacky decisions
the wildest thing i’ve ever done
was at age 16, my girlfriend 15
we’d ******* a bunch
but i wanted to spend the night together
it was important to me
god knows why
so we made a plan
one night i sat on the couch
watching TV with her mom, dad
her brother and sister
and at 10 pm i said goodnight
but instead of going out the front door
i snuck upstairs to her room
hiding in her closet with a flashlight
and dostoevsky’s house of the dead
no thought of repercussions
which might have ranged from shrieking
to assault to jail to fatality
my mind was focused on one thing only
even more astonishing
from my current advanced perspective
my bladder was entirely tame
no need for any bathroom break
a couple of hours and several chapters later
when the house was silent
i slipped into her bed
mmm, mmm, mmm
at 5 am i skulked down the stairs
and hiked to the diner for a victory breakfast

I only wonder if you remembered why you were
And I quickly got an answer back.

Mildly cautious you returned my grin with a wisp of your own
Now I can see me cheeky smile in the reflection of your eyes
And one more staring right back at me.

We both felt bad about smiling
And did our darndest to suppress it
But that made it obviously worse.

I heard your brain say **** it
Mine chuckled and invited you down
to the reserved bedside next to me
Your name was written all over it.

Without a second thought you were there
And the smiles jumped between us
As we blinked the rest of that hour away.

Even with my eyes closed I could still see you in all clarity
The faint line of concern
sliding across your forehead from time to time
As I stop breathing.

Ah ha! We think it together
At least we both recalled…

I'm truly sorry, I didn't want to be right
I could just tell from the beginning
I could die tonight.

But it will be OK
I love you dearly and all I can say
Is the last words on my lips
Will be printed upon me for all to read
I'm glad my love for you is now there to see.

I don’t actually know what I am typing
This is going to be like one of those sentences that you start
But don’t know where it’s going so you just keep talking

I am happy
Happier than I have been in so long
For a really long time
I thought God was against me
I didn’t know if I should put my faith in him or not
It’s actually called agnosticism
But I felt as if I had done something really bad when I was young
Because God kept throwing punches
And then he gave me some happy back
But then he took it away
And then he gave it back

I don’t know
It’s confuzzling
Yes i just used that word
I’m one of those people
I use fantabulous as an actual adjective
And I add -ly to any verb to make it an adjective
Yes, in case you were wondering
I’m pretty sure I’m crazy
But besides the point
I am happy

I’m not sure if anyone is reading this far in
This is pretty long anyway
And basically I’m just ranting

I have some major mental problems
If y’all have read any of my other poems you would know that there are a lot of things that ripped my heart out
And yes, I am also one of those people that uses the word y’all
I have anxiety, worried about everything and I get anxiety attacks at a good chunk of the football games I go to
I have depression, or some sort of mood swingy thing goin’ on there
I don’t really know
I’m just really sad all the time
There’s a lot more, but those are the most demanding of them all
It kinda makes life unbearable
But I live

Oh, oh, oh!
I just came up with what to call this piece
The Dumpster Fire Rant
Yeah
That’s my mom’s favorite saying
Or at least a close second to ‘do you want to be sent to live with your dad’
But the point is
I don’t know what the heck in huckleberry heck I’m talking about
Again, yes, I am that kind of person to say that
I’m basically just ranting here
Ranting about my major dumpster fire of a comedic life
And no one has probably even reached this far in the poem
Because it’s too long
And it’s basically me being a major dork
But I don’t care

I get made fun of quite a bit
I’m a nerd
And I’m considered smart, even though I’m pretty stupid in my opinion
I sing
To be exact, I sing and dance
At the same time
It’s called show choir
And no I’m not queer in any way, shape, or form
...well…
Nope.
That’s not a question I feel like talking about
If I answer what I am
I get scared and run in the opposite direction
Even if it’s something I can’t change
So I rather not think about the possibilities
I am the girl who stands in front of the mirror each day
And decides I am pretty
Only to be told by everyone
Including my family and closest friends
That I am ugly
Even if they don’t say it directly
They make the slightest comment
And I feel like I was shot

I am also the girl who reads at lunch while listening to Frank Turner
The artist who no one I know knows
I am the one who says the darndest things
Like fudge buckets, or shiitake mushrooms on a swiss burger on a Wednesday afternoon
And I say croutons like crouwtons, and tells autocorrect to shove off when it tells me that’s wrong
I am the one who eats mac and cheese with ketchup and ranch
And I am the one who drinks orange juice with my spaghetti
I get it
I am weird
And I am a target
And I practically am asking for it
But I can’t explain it
That’s just the way I am

I am pretty fricken sure that no one is still reading this

Sometimes
I just need a good rant
And I only know you virtually
So you are my therapist
Except with less awkward silence and the weird fact that you’re being evaluated by another person
And can practically see their thoughts behind their eyes
Or is that just me?
Anyway
You didn’t have to say anything
Or even read the whole thing
Or any of it at all
But it’s out there
My rant is out there
My dumpster fire is burning bright
And it is out there
So thank you virtual therapists who I don’t know and probably haven’t even read this far in.
Thank you.

The love you give is indeed bright
The sun thou est speak tonight
Cusps of the moon had a velleity towards illumination
Saying, c'est la vie, that's life
Of the boughs of beauty simply unbroken
By words of another world unspoken
The light of a thousand years
Brighten my sunshine morning that evokes the dawn
The darndest thing I remember is the moonlight
Of a thousand silver foxes approaching
In this folklore, we call eternal love

Some wonderful somebody In Hello (Ella Johnson) described my work as "amazing".  I'm flattered beyond words. Such a powerful compliment makes one hardly feel worth it, BUT, if I it is that, it is because:
     Everything I Think, I Write

Everything I think, I write,
For better or for worse,
And since
I cogitate throughout the days,
The thought-turned-phrase
Converts the days to thought-turned-verse.

For some it’s money that’s thought bound.
For some it’s family circled round
Family, worry, God or Death.
My thing is Truth.

Through diverse channels,
Canals all, the universal stall of measure.
I see all as Truth the Treasure.
I can’t stop.  And who would want to.
Rhythm, melody and phrase
The driving craze in me. Yippee!

Here comes the sister poem called Everything Is Worth A Poem #2,
/ I’ve written one before).

If you’ve a sense of rhythm, rhyme,
Metered time, it’s worth a poem.
It may be so-so at the start,
But blurt it out, impart a theme,
It’s worth a go
To watch the darndest things start flowing.
As they insight into…

Clichés there will have to be.
It’s hard to say new, clear things simply.
Idioms on which you grew, they’re you, real you.
Take Dante. Using the colloquial,
To say the deepest things.  
And pray!  They’ve lasted,
Nay, outlasted…never to decay as past.

You may start a shallow fellow -
Sleepy, hollow.
You have thoughts – just not developed;
Still a pearl inside the scallop;
You use couplets as your form.  Later on they won’t seem normal.
As you broaden, you’ll be lauded
By the gods of verse in Auden heaven.

Though this may turn out to be
A poem six hundred ninety-three,
And oh, so corny
You can see
It is the height of luxury
And makes me rapturously happy.

Everything I Think I Write 6.16.2018 A Sense Of Ridiculous II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Arlene Nover Corwin

(a poor excuse for legs),
and get me the latest
sophisticated prosthetics advancements,
whereat integration of cultured stem cells
into custom made appendages
allows, enables, and provides
unfortunate recipients of amputations
to experience sensations.

No more will yours truly
(skinny legged sexagenarian)
envy amputees fitted with smart limbs
equipped tricked out arms and legs,
cuz he will be proud owned
with false limbs
(mainly legs, I did not decide
about equally spindly arms)
finding a once nasty, short
and brutish solitary
Norwegian bachelor farmer
transformed into a very charming, tall
and humane debonair troubadour
rivaling the likes of any swain.

No insult meant
for those handicapped,
who experience(d) phantom limb
perhaps linkedin to
fierce near mortal kombat,
wondering if stayin alive
after surviving serious wombs
that killed fellow combatants
trying your darndest
to feel worthy earning a purple heart,
(a distinguished military decoration
awarded in the name of the President

those who got wounded or killed
while serving in the U.S. armed forces),
with attendant laurels such as
handsome veteran benefits,
answering the call of duty
nevertheless daily reminders
being survivor as a foreigner
waging war, when host country
loathed American military as infidels,
whose countrymen bathed
innocent defenseless civilians
in blood of barbarity.

Stop saying sassy sobriquets schooled
***** spindleshanks...
studious skinny scruffy scribe.

Scathing, scolding, screaming,
scorning, searing, sniggering,
sociopathic sarin soaked skewed
squirt, sputtering, squawking, sleepily
staggering, stabbing, swaggering
sweltering sadistic, sarcastic,
savage, systemically systematically
stigmatized, supersized saber sharp
schick shaving, shunned, sabotaged,
scarred, scorched, smote, sanguine,
stippled, speckled schizophrenic

sensibility, spurring, seething,
somewhat stultified, sophisticated,
spellbound spirited scabrous
schlemiel schlemazel, stenciled,
sundered sniveling sanguine storied
snakebitten sojourning *******,
skeptical shoddy sophomoric
screwball, subtly sagacious,
stunted, sclerotic, scrappily
shuffling short, Shylock
styled sideburns Semite,

sainted Shasta sipping
shriveled self secluded sad sack,
sullenly syncopated, synthesized,
slobbering sybaritic, scruffy
sheepish sketchy scalawag,
Socratically scrutinizing, seizure
stricken, stoically sneezing,
shamed Skidrow skeezer, shifty,
sweaty, sham shaman,
supremely spidery, schmaltzy,
sylan seeking subsidized succor,

self shuttered, sequestered,
sidelined, shiftless, shabby,
semantically snazzy, soldiering,
shrieking, skulking, somber,
stooping, Segway scootering,
schmart spendthrift, Swahili
speaking, straitlaced, streamlined,
spongebobbing, sandal shod
sealegs, squarepants sporting
spectacles, sedate, sensate,
sentient, ship shaped,

shanghaied, salubrious,
slithering, snakish, stuttering,
sluggish, smashface scarred,
sober, solitary, sangfroid
skidamarink singing, Shamokin
speaking scrivener, scuzzy,
spunky, starved, submissively
suicidal, sunburned,
salaried shuffling senescent
snoutish soundcloud shutterflying
snapchatting Schwenksville schnorrer.

Shove the knife in deep
Make me think it was me
Destroy even tiny bits of what might've been
Try your darndest to make me
Think you're someone
I should still need
In the end all I see
Is a destroyer

Equals twenty one thirty 22:30 military time
future time traveler looks back one century ago,
oceanic waterways overladen with green slime,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)

stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)
can be sweet as apple pie or sour as lemon or lime
cell metabolism catalytic converter courtesy enzyme
routine medical procedure costs about one dime.

Me - born fifty nine years into twentieth century alive
eight score and three years secret condiment iz chive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian hive
found synchronicity within Unitarian Church more so
parents introduced dogmatic, ethic, fundamentalistic
jargonistic, kinetic, linguistic, pluralistic, quixotic I've
discovered compatibility with non religious teaching

wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely ***** deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
**** sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.

Formalities encompass chalice lighting ma yoyo
wing liberal Democratic political bent embraces XO
shorthand for virtual affectionate charisma minister
Reverend Margret O'Neal imparts open greeting
congregation Sunday at ten thirty AM courtesy zoom
bajillion years after proto humans experienced woe
countless figurative early Brady bunched bro doggie
dimples encountered necessity to escape cohabitation
(marital covenant alien), yet quasi marital brouhaha
ofttimes witnessed altercation begetting re: thorough
out baby with bath water phenomena, which literal
cruel fate heavily peppered past (mine) accounting

lamely explaining Pink Floyd momentary status quo
upended accompanied courtesy lapse of reason no
definitive evidence to substantiate claim, yet I know
without shadowed doubt every friggin forebear (***
pining to savor manumission, versus cotton pickin)
back breaking stoop labor think indentured escrow
harking back to days of our lives (mainly bonobo
nasty, short and brutus creatures millenniums ago
unsung simian kindred beings suffering figurative
ruffled horse feathers nsync with bird in hand dodo

which latter species long extinct (as Dutch good eats)
now non sequitur (sea quitter) mine homeboys/girls
comprising Harris eventual clan (of craven lionized
"scapegoats" set genealogical precedent, and grew
some real winners gentiles, who commingled and
intermarried, and united proudly to kvetch as Jew)
eventually acquiring redeeming qualities conveniently
best caricatured as features exhibited by Mister MaGoo
invariably dear reader "fake" anecdote ye will poo poo
as well how storied and fabled coronavirus (COVID-19)
medical technicians reference quaint pandemic setting

figurative global stage brethren and sistern microbes
made webbed, wide world wish for said good ole days
cuz, communiqué done being crafted about six hours
marine hated, armies of beastie boys slain 2122 yahoo
the darndest, latest microscopic bugaboo nearly slew
entire population, hence envision terra firma with
divine providence absolute zero people as edenic
provenance (metaphorically offering tabula rasa view.

I exhibit health and virility at one hundred and
64 years astride planet earth, whereby spouse,
(who remained married to yours truly for about
one century – which elapsed in blink of an eye)
long since gave up the ghost, which found me
receptive to possible mission to date women
(strong of body, mind, and spirit with frontier
spirit) young enough to be my granddaughter.  

Circa December 4th, 2123, or 1212 military time,
yours truly attempted crafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd, nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry, still considered prime
(moost procreative, prodigious, and progressive)
stage, since (case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score orbitz round Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically analogous to protracted lunchtime
whereat the average offspring jetson or (daughter)

Born twenty three years into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep, and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me) take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope heart tickle early misthrive
moost definitely ***** deeds done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space cowboy lobbing power-drive
re: frequently innocent prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau) Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky tinged entire his/her story,
**** sapiens animal husbandry hastily did wive.

Bajillion years after proto humans experienced woe
countless figurative early Brady bunched bro doggie
dimples encountered necessity to escape cohabitation
(marital covenant alien), yet quasi marital brouhaha
ofttimes witnessed altercation begetting re: thorough
out baby with bath water phenomena, which literal
cruel fate heavily peppered past (mine) accounting
lamely explaining Pink Floyd momentary status quo
upended accompanied courtesy lapse of reason no

definitive evidence to substantiate claim, yet I know
without shadowed doubt every friggin forebear (***
pining to savor manumission, versus cotton pickin)
back breaking stoop labor think indentured escrow
harking back to days of our lives (mainly bonobo
nasty, short and brutus creatures millenniums ago
unsung simian kindred beings suffering figurative
ruffled horse feathers nsync with bird in hand dodo
which latter species long extinct (as Dutch good eats)

now non sequitur (sea quitter) mine homeboys/girls
comprising Harris eventual clan (of craven lionized
"scapegoats" set genealogical precedent, and grew
some real winners gentiles, who commingled and
intermarried, and united proudly to kvetch as Jew)
eventually acquiring redeeming qualities conveniently
best caricatured as features exhibited by Mister MaGoo
invariably dear reader "fake" anecdote ye will poo poo
as well how storied and fabled coronavirus (COVID-19)

medical technicians reference quaint pandemic setting
figurative global stage brethren and sistern microbes
made webbed, wide world wish for said good ole days
cuz, communique done being crafted about six hours
marine hated, armies of beastie boys slain 2123 yahoo
the darndest, latest microscopic bugaboo nearly slew
entire population, hence envision terra firma with
divine providence absolute zero people as edenic
provenance (metaphorically offering tabula rasa view.

Witnessed courtesy the following poetic sight
especially when dark shadows foretell edge of night
twilight zone expanding
into outer limits of width and height
obscuring webbed wide world
subsequently where black tentacles alight.

This poetic prologue feeble exercise to encapsulate commonplace frustration experienced by fledgling author evidenced by spurious poem dredged up below decks foregoing full sentences, which will resume reflections being hobbled to cobble words together, when yours truly tries his darndest to re-captcha fleeting idea or sentiment.

Minimal productiveness
as hands of time issue silent tick tock
resultant rhyme without reason mere schlock
conceding intelligence on par with rock
consanguinity quite evident
versus key difference
when affliction named agraphia doth lock
stock and barrel creative juices
resounding, resonating, and resolving

into echo chamber with hollowness when
upon noggin of scapegoat bully doth knock
impossible mission to fend off badass ****
whereby yours truly envisions
fanciful day dream lazing a boat on the dock
carefree mindset disallows watching clock
repudiating, spurning, and thwarting
thee dilemma of writer's block
deliberating calling ghost writer ad hoc

One former bohemian rhapsodizes (and a young bare cub at Antioch to boot), now prosaically expounds courtesy lengthy epistemological expressing difficulty to craft complex literary edifice applying building blocks of English language in a fitting manner that does justice to said lingua franca giving liberty to leaping lizard thoughts that dart to and fro, hither and yon within the windmills of my mind.

Rather than censor or edit, I pour out at rapid fire rate, the notions (ala kingly brainstorm) that flit thru me  noggin when first staring at the black and white screen, sometimes eyes remain closed to help initiate the process to summon forth this, that, or another just barely perceptible concept; the task less difficult when the topic provided, which preconceived subject narrows focus into figurative box.

When provided specific issue to write about
the effort still arduous to gather plethora of
disparate points aware near infinite number
of directions discourse in question
could take this, that or another route,
whereby any path could lead to a dead end
with impulse to yank inkwell and spill spout
all over manuscript,
a Rorschach work of art to tout.

Countless trials and errors entail exploration
to the near state of physical exhaustion
where each logical conclusion finds pensive
fellow inextricably entangled within his own
thicket of unprintable verbiage.

Would you dear reader believe a/or accept
eureka moments arise stealthily as cats crept
unexpectedly and inconveniently when I
get situated on toilet and whole paragraphs
tumble into consciousness pell mell faster
than bowels expelling ****** waste matter
from derrière except
Macbook Pro in other room kept
safe and sound against accidents
if mishap occurred resident Kuni Lemel
would be convulsing with grief as he wept.

umpteenth heat wave since onset of summer...
sizzles Delaware Valley today August 26th, 2022

Said geographical area composed of counties
located in Southeastern Pennsylvania,
South Jersey, Delaware, and
Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Sweltering temperatures
figuratively grip human zoo
bipedal hominids (yours truly,
an olive - garden variety simian)
seek much sought after shade
under whirled wide webbed yew
encompass vantage point to view
how flora and fauna cook née stew.

Weather records (temperature + heat index)
(one for the books) chart mercury
rising hot enough to melt tar,
which indicates global warming
quite evident I fear,
what with mean Fahrenheit degrees
from January – August 2022 (thus far)
noticeably above norm for this time of year
prognosticators foretell forecasts
per this third planet from the star,
which inhabitants upon Mother Earth
burden of responsibility must bear

billions of people wanton pollutants
ratchet up barometric millibar
dialing up greenhouse effect,
which serious scenario scientists fear
correlation from profligate offal ways
traced from freed genie in the jar,
no longer stretch of imagination
affects mankind did sear
since day of reckoning,
whence Prometheus set stage for war
pitting mankind against Gaia
urgent messages we fail to hear.

Dystopian forecast impossible mission to avoid
since doomsday thoughts pervade consciousness
after perusing newsworthy information
globe trotting correspondents riskily employed
imperiling their life and limb to acquire
truthful natural and/or human interest stories
occurring across all four corners
of oblate spheroid,
i.e. world wide web,
whereby Earth situated within nebulous void.

I try mine darndest to maintain optimistic aire
all the while gleaning apocalyptic intimations
courtesy human engineered phenomenon
all the more rhyme and reason to beware
**** sapiens on brink of armageddon,
especially when trustworthy cognoscere
painstakingly document their research
and without lacking hesitation declare

drastic paradigm shift away
from dependence on nuclear
energy and fossil fuels everywhere
else climate change could bitta bing
bitta bang hasten global warming,
where wicked watery wasteland
wreaks bleak soggy frontier
backed by popular demand
majority trumpets grandpoobear
for president, he who donned hair
actually he got bewigged courtesy fake
orange toupee, which got blown away
while he hoisted himself
with his own petard.

Imagine dragons if ye will - one immense
ferociously diametrically,
and climatological, cosmological,
geomorphological, meteorological phenomena
opposite that of Polar Vortex
(perhaps an apropos
nom de plume
would be Hades Furnace)
asphyxiating, clapping,
and encapsulating thee
entire oblate spheroid planet.

Judgement day could be similarly
blazing hot on the saddle, or cold
as a witch’s ***, which constant reminders
during Spartan, slated singe shearing,
stoic upbringing inured us Lutherans
to bite the figurative bullet
(which melted like caramel),
during those scorching, sea-sickening,
and sunstroke unbearable vaporizing winds.

No matter the temperature considerably cooler
holed deep within man cave
here within Lake Wobegon,
(especially with a box and desk fan
blowing pleasant air), nonetheless
I still lose out viz zit head by exertion
as a zero sum game.

The following poem tweaked
courtesy original author who crafted
literary endeavor some couple years ago.

Now circa August 20th, 2122,
or 1930 military time,
yours truly attempted
drafting id est feeble rhyme
far from madding crowd,
nevertheless yet lovely
bones and flesh quite spry,
still considered prime
moost procreative, prodigious,
professorial and progressive

stage coach, since he capitalized
palsied belles-lettres
(case ye didn't know) approximately
eight score plus orbitz round
Earth's sun still noontime
chronologically - analogous
to protracted lunchtime,
whereat in summer re:
an average offspring royal
jetson or judicious daughter

born twenty two years
into twenty second century alive
and well (still hashtagged
as precocious) with drive
to safely, sidestep,
and surmount establishmentarian
archaic, formulaic, and
mosaic Judaic/Christian give
wry master of words (me)
take poetic license to jive
reasonably rhyming nope
heart tickle early bird misthrive

moost definitely ***** deeds
done dirt cheap (trick)
super tramping space
cowboy hobbing lobbying power-drive
re: frequently innocent
prelapsarian double entendre
(Jean Jacques Rousseau)
Noble Savage he doth strive
even though hanky panky
tinged entire his/her story,
**** sapiens animal husbandry
hastily did (oh Henry) wive.

Bajillion years after
proto humans experienced woe
countless figurative early
Brady bunched bro doggie
dimples encountered necessity
to escape cohabitation
(marital covenant alien),
yet quasi unbridled brouhaha
ofttimes witnessed altercation
begetting re: thorough

out baby with
bath water phenomena, which literal
cruel fate heavily peppered past (mine,
piper who got quite petered out) accounting
lamely explaining Pink Floyd
momentary status quo
upended accompanied courtesy
lapse of reason no

definitive evidence to substantiate claim,
yet I know
without darkly shadowed doubt
every friggin forebear ***
pining to savor manumission,
versus cotton pickin
back breaking stoop labor
think indentured escrow
harking back as webbed wide world turns
to days of our lives mainly bonobo

nasty, short and brute
**** creatures millenniums ago
unsung bipedal simian
kindred beings suffering figurative
ruffled horse feathers nsync
with bird in hand dodo
which latter species
long extinct (as Dutch good eats)

now non sequitur (sea quitter)
mine homeboys/girls
comprising Harris eventual
clan of craven lionized
"scapegoats" set genealogical precedent,
and (fantastically grew
like nose of Pinocchio,
some real winners gentiles,
who commingled and
intermarried, and united proudly
to kvetch as Jew

eventually acquiring
redeeming qualities conveniently
best caricatured as features
exhibited by Mister MaGoo
invariably dear reader
"fake" anecdote ye will poo poo
as well how storied and fabled
coronavirus (COVID-19)

medical technicians reference
quaint pandemic setting
figurative global stage
brethren and cistern microbes
made webbed, wide world
wish for said good ole days
cuz, communique done
being crafted about six hours

marine hated, armies
of Linkin Park - foo fighting
beastie boys slayed 2122 yahoos,
the darndest, hastiest, latest,
paunchiest piloted
microscopic bugaboo nearly slew
entire population, hence
envision terra firma with
divine providence
absolute zero people as edenic
provenance metaphorically
offering tabula rasa view.

sizzles Delaware Valley today July 16th, 2024

Said geographical area composed of counties
located in Southeastern Pennsylvania,
South Jersey, Delaware, and
Eastern Shore of Maryland.

Sweltering temperatures
figuratively grip human zoo
bipedal hominids (yours truly,
an olive - garden variety simian)
seek much sought after shade
under whirled wide webbed yew
offering protection from the sheltering sky,  
which heavenly reflection within
shining sea witnesses wahoo,
whereat fisherman angling
to encompass vantage point to view

how flora and fauna cook née stew
scorched wildlife
postpone impossible mission
to search and rescue
despite bucket brigade lined in a queue
to stanch imminent wildfires
sparked by lightning striking
dry as kindling tinder
linkedin with El Niño and climate change
omnipresent phenomenon offered preview

Weather records
(one for the books) chart mercury
rising hot enough to melt tar,
which indicates global warming
quite evident I fear,
what with mean temperatures
from January – July 2024 (thus far)
noticeably above norm for this time of year
prognosticators foretell forecasts
per this third planet from the star,
which inhabitants upon Mother Earth
burden of responsibility must bear

billions of people wanton pollutants
ratchet up barometric millibar
dialing up greenhouse effect,
which serious scenario scientists fear
correlation from profligate offal ways
traced from freed genie in the jar,
no longer stretch of imagination
affects mankind did sear
since day of reckoning,
whence Prometheus set stage for war
pitting mankind against Gaia
urgent messages we fail to hear.

Dystopian forecast impossible mission to avoid
since doomsday thoughts pervade consciousness
after perusing newsworthy information
globe trotting correspondents riskily employed
imperiling their life and limb to acquire
truthful natural and/or human interest stories
occurring across all four corners of oblate spheroid,
i.e. world wide web,
whereby Earth situated within nebulous void.

I try mine darndest to maintain optimistic aire
all the while gleaning apocalyptic intimations
courtesy human engineered phenomenon
all the more rhyme and reason to beware
**** sapiens on brink of armageddon,
especially when trustworthy cognoscere
painstakingly document their research
and without lacking hesitation declare

drastic paradigm shift away
from dependence on nuclear
energy and fossil fuels everywhere
else climate change could bitta bing
bitta bang hasten global warming,
where wicked watery wasteland
wreaks bleak soggy frontier
backed by popular demand
majority trumpets grandpoobear
for president, he who donned hair
actually he got bewigged courtesy fake
orange toupee, which got blown away
while he hoisted himself
with his own petard.

Imagine if ye will - one immense
ferociously diametrically,
and cosmologically phenomena
opposite that of Polar Vortex
(perhaps an apropos
nom de plume
would be Hades Furnace)
asphyxiating, clapping,
and encapsulating thee
entire oblate spheroid planet.

Judgement day could be similarly
blazing hot on the saddles, or cold
as a witch’s ***, which constant reminders
during Spartan, slated singe shearing,
stoic upbringing inured us Lutherans
to bite the figurative bullet
(which melted like caramel)
during those scorching, sea-sickening,
and sunstroke unbearable vaporizing winds.

No matter the temperature considerably cooler
holed deep within man cave
(especially with central air conditioning
set at seventy degrees and a box and desk fan
blowing pleasant air), nonetheless
I still lose out viz zit head by exertion
as a zero sum game.

Disclaimer: It's a hard
and dangerous job and there
are plenty of good cops
and God bless them
but as for the others:

Cops Lie.
They lie and lie.
They even lie when there is video.
They lie even when their lies
are plain to see.
Clearly, the blood and broken nose
are from the victim smashing
his own face into the pavement.
The welts from repeatedly ramming
his head into that peace officer's baton.

If Attila the *** were a cop,
the police union would vigorously
defend his innocence.
He's a fellow officer, after all.
And if anyone on the force,
including the Police Chief,
disagrees the Union backers will
do their darndest to get him fired.

Now, imagine how much worse
it was before cell phones, before video.

Brutal.