The only reason I don't believe in god
Is that every time I call out and wait
For a response,
I hear one
But it isn't the shining distant
Palace of foretold heaven
But instead,
My own thoughts knocking around
In a hollow skull
That I found in the gutter
A long time ago and decided
It was about time I had fun
And ran with it as a joke
A great joke, a cosmic joke
The joke
Laughing all the way to
The enlightenment that
the completely Lost
sob around but never
Penetrate
The world turns its humble face
From the oscillating bits that make
Up their fibre of being and exist
Only so we may exist alongside them
Because the world it seems, has
Matured too much, gone to far
To fraternize with the original
Few who will outlast any
Newly minted spirit the string-pulling
Puppets could muster up
Inside their cobwebbed memories
Devoid of the experience
Because that's all we can be, isn't it?
Memories
The fools will cry
But the enlightened ones will laugh on
And on realizing that
Failure, being the apex, is forever
And success is singular
Letting themselves drop so far
That they find themselves
Beyond the game and petty rules
In a place were fire whispers
And the trees don't mind
Being burnt
Because only what comes
Can be the true redeemer
The past is only set in stone because
The mason has given up his future
Along with the Good Christians
Who have resigned themselves
Not even bothering for a formal
Agreement or deed to their
Autonomy
And who when the next jesus walks along the lonely path to the hill
After fighting a war with
A few close friends more lost
Will stand and throw rocks like Romans and not see the flow of what could be
And then in the same age advanced be called the murderers of the new prophet
This sad excuse of a worldly Society
Rests thrashing in
The final throes
Legitimizing non reality
And the world of professionals who
Have turned reality on its head
Turning the world into a place where
Cloth creates flesh and not
The order of flesh atop
The holy hierarchy lacking a point
Living in the base
And all we are left with are crises
That no one can afford to fight
We strap ourselves to the ride to hell
Not seeing that the man who pulls the lever is just the same as the one
Who burns first.
The people search for a god in the sky
The more adventurous  with
Chemicals coursing through
their veins
But god is in the grass
Speaking without words
But in instances
Moments of eternity where
All that was, time and space
Flow in and all that could be but hasn't becomes formalized as occurrence
Flows out leading to the inventive
Moments of bliss just beyond
Grasping hands.

Up and over the barbed wire gate
Crept a dreadful Mr. Despair
To meet a horrible Mr. Hate
Who was impatiently waiting there
The dark alley that they had chosen
Was well off the beaten path
But it wasn’t long they heard approaching
A reckless Mr. Wrath
He greeted them with a grunt
A courtesy, for they’d never met
Then up from a steamy sewer
Rose a rueful Mr. Regret
He hardly nodded his heavy head
On his face a grumpy grimace
And so there they festered
Awaiting their last accomplice
Then out from a ***** dumpster
Creeping quite quietly
Fell the gang’s last felon
An awkward Mr. Anxiety
So there they plotted to pillage
In that abandoned alley
That lovely little town
Then called Vulnerable Valley
There they consorted, concocting
To bring the town nothing but gloom
They snickered, spat and sneered
Oh, the impending doom
Suddenly all peered upward
As a light shone through a window above
Their riotous rebellion had roused
A light-hearted Mr. Love
“Top of the mornin’ down there
Dandy weather wouldn’t ye say?”
To which there was no rebuttal
To sewers and shadows
The creeps had crept
To fraternize another day

Rule#1 Never say never
Rule#2 Never say forever
Rule#3 Trust is a must
Rule#4 Don’t fraternize with lust
Rule#5 Communication is key
Rule#6 Respect is proper courtesy
Rule#7 Don’t ever cheat
Rule#8 Stay humble and discreet
Rule#9 Remember important days like the first day you met
Rule#10 Be weary and watchful of your debt

Love the love and do what you gotta do
Follows these rules and your love will pull through

they told me not to sip too much from the solo cups
if I didn’t want to get ***** tonight.
the feminist issue here is not keeping up
but keeping low, keeping unnoticed, 
staying as safe as that moldy orange in the Safeway,
never gonna get plucked up and ***** that way.


they told me not to indulge my senses and enhance my intoxication 
levels at risk of decreasing my chances of 
survival against a ******
attacking me.


they told me I feel like I need to keep up with the guys with my drinks,
match my stack of cups to theirs, and I just think 
that’s *******, I just want to drink my ****** beer,
but they said that’s how I’ll get *****
well maybe I binge on a lot of bad habits.
I pile them up on the CVS counter like a checklist of things not to do

smoke, spend too much money and time on ebay bidding on
vintage rings and things I’ll never need, eat a row of oreos out of
my roomate’s care package,
and drink too much at the occasional
party where I fraternize with the males from planet greek,
but does that make me guilty for getting *****?


today I woke up feeling like a damaged cause,
like a present that fell out of the back door of a UPS truck going 
75 miles per hour on the highway in East Tennessee
and I never got to my destination.
should I have buckled my seat belt tighter?


society makes me feel crazy for thinking I can try to prevent
a violent act of maddening hate against a woman’s body,
or maybe a man’s, let’s not discriminate,
brought on by alcohol, late night musing, and punch bowl brewing.

maybe they should tell the rapists to keep their pants zipped 
and their ***** to themselves unless they are requested.

keep your hands in your pastel short pockets and 
let me go on with my business of being a proud, righteous woman.

Philosophy about Solstice

Scientific method:

1. Observation: He said his physical theory raises dreams and joins interracial ideas - could produce longevity and immortality with his idea of raising the world with levers and raise their strength the world to bring the earth on its axis and improving the quality of evolutionary life the geniuses who come into the world. The Elves would raise with his new meridians to build a world that links the current mythical world with realistic ancient philosophical, to bridge the gap of the dying world today.

2. Pattern:    The new world of elves help me transcend to improve today's world, to connect with the old, so I'll see needs that today could fraternize with seniority, to enhance resources and maximize them. Example: feeding more people necessary to prevent homeless people of their rights, maximize the cosmic world today with an Elf Archimedes to rule the new world and its vicissitudes.


Nights longer and more alike, not sleep or sleep, getting numbers for half days ... but no more whole, more evaporated water in the boilers of hell to recover from our inefficiencies and disabilities. 1-2-3-4- ... 4,5- 4.6 -4.7 ... I exist - I get up - I invoke the dew, and drops the recovery leftover for next winter - thus saving in my mind the fear of not extend beyond my unethical proportion of aid for subsequent actions helping future for those who need to continue or ...

3.  I managed to see that during these days reviewing the epistemological axis where Archimedes stands with optics, physics, and engineering, strikes me how maybe even if he lived, he would have invented things to save us from the worst threats. I managed to raise my faith to join science and move ideas through numbers, astrological and cosmic phenomena. Today on Hydrostatic overcome the demographic Tsunamis threaten the world about crowding industrially. We would do more immune power of the mind without reason, making sensitive PLCs and computers programmed. I've noticed that we can all be engineers; in fact, we are, what happens is that we do not dream dreams starting unfinished, but rather we always begin and where the same without it.

4.  For millions of nights exercise my way of looking at the ancient world and observe that it was still the Sun - trip with my thoughts and saw that the days were universal, to the moon was sharper - touch the sun and moon with my mathematical calculations caressing the entire universe. Inquiring as sleeps the world in my hands and my senses, to measure the physical magnitude beyond being I Archimedes - raise me to the world in my hand and reach the Nordic worlds - try to go to bed thinking he would lose the night to count stars and beams of morning light -even got the world in my hands feeling lashes mortality. The results are: with the Elf I slept counting stars in 5, 8, 3, 10 minutes (average 6.5 min), with the arithmetic in 3, 7, 11, respectively 3 minutes (average of 6 min), without at 9, 15, 14, 12 minutes achieve agencying (average 12.5 min). I am a prisoner of the proportions that occur over time. Counted nights and days pass and my mind was seeing everything together once.

5.  Therefore the phenomenon Solsticio helped me measure the nights intoxicate fatigue levitating night inspiration. Biologically alive even if Archimedes still have hopes of immunology strict life, but rather do good fighting it scientifically, but how is knowledge enemy dying in their own ignorance called fear. The more than academic Epistemology is one gram of salt to the ignorant homeless, which is all the Universal Sea to water and all the sea to move ships to those who really thought of it back and not stray it for those who use it. Elves revive the mythical millennium sick every year remembering that it is possible to heal the lost time.

The Sun gets tired and already has varicose veins, I would think that given time restores me to return to the rivers where they were born. But the sun continues to rise and this fat and cholesterol, we need ways to measure how much longer we can keep watching the Solstice like ours. Perhaps an infusion of Mandrake for poor people starting to be good ...

they told me not to sip too much from the solo cups
if I didn’t want to get ***** tonight.
the feminist issue here is not keeping up
but keeping low, keeping unnoticed,
staying as safe as that moldy orange in the Safeway,
never gonna get plucked up and ***** that way.

they told me not to indulge my senses and enhance my intoxication
levels at risk of decreasing my chances of
survival against a ******
attacking me.

they told me I feel like I need to keep up with the guys with my drinks,
match my stack of cups to theirs, and I just think
that’s *******, I just want to drink my ****** beer,
but they said that’s how I’ll get *****.

well maybe I binge on a lot of bad habits.
I pile them up on the CVS counter like a checklist of things not to do,
smoke, spend too much money and time on ebay bidding on
vintage rings and things I’ll never need, eat a row of oreos out of
my roomate’s care package, and drink too much at the occasional
party where I fraternize with the males from planet greek,
but does that make me guilty for getting *****?

today I woke up feeling like a damaged cause,
like a present that fell out of the back door of a UPS truck going
75 miles per hour on the highway in East Tennessee
and I never got to my destination.
should I have buckled my seat belt tighter?

society makes me feel crazy for thinking I can try to prevent
a violent act of maddening hate against a woman’s body,
or maybe a man’s, let’s not discriminate,
brought on by alcohol, late night musing, and punch bowl brewing.
maybe they should tell the rapists to keep their pants zipped
and their ***** to themselves unless they are requested.
keep your hands in your pastel short pockets and
let me go on with my business of being a proud, righteous woman.

in the tomb of my father’s influence
a single
****** on
juice box.

     assigned seating
in biology class
a giant     a boy
beside the me
most grotesque
and we share
a model
heart     as a found
piece
of gum.

in cafeteria I am untouched
as a tray of food     I fraternize
with my new name     jovial
pisspants.

Black coffee
Unfiltered cigarettes
Scotch, neat
Rare steak

Then there's me.

I'm no stranger to
Wry grimaces
When I share
Or comments about
How I'm
A snide, contrarian *******
Or
An unapproachable ****
A snob who refuses to fraternize
Who thinks he's better than us
And whatnot
Sure, let the reviews pile up
I've heard them all

If the taste of me makes you spew
Then walk away
And order your chai vanilla soy non-fat latte
Topped with whipped cream and cinnamon

The unadulterated stuff is
Clearly not for you.

While watching Nick Jr.
At 3 AM,
I realized,
That I should comply,
the best word out there,
the one most up to date,
top of the line,
descriptor of how I view this,
that a person,
On that personal journey,
Has the ability to take things,
as they come,
The right to comply and accept,
subtle resistance,
sparks make in the dark,
or complain and argue,
With our fair lady Reality,
Our comfort zones snug in the couch,

Softening our undersides,
cradling our egos,
tingles of nostalgia tickle the nostrils,
A temptation of non-timelessness,
Themes have evolved,
While evolving the themes decreased,
Sensation dwindled,
Mankind found daily interaction difficult.

Rallying in treasured desert halls,
Painted absurd pink propaganda soliloquies,
Fill the hall,
Shut the door,
See it all come down,
The exhaustion,
The living nights,
Scarred Skies,
Makeshift holes of the soul,
Realign and try,
For the love of God; try,
Better that your tethers are secure,
It makes the construction workers,
Safe; all up there,
Cold as can be,
Shivering at 100° desolation,
moving like creme statues,
Up there,
That tie to the platform
Preserves the sonder,
That fact that,
Someone is up to what they are up to,
Paranoia shouts find out,
Passivity says let it be,
midsentence it all makes sense,
tat the net of being,
flies along the bleating radar,
the seismic adventures of man,
Trampolines collective consciousness,
Floating together in the void,
Finding our footholds,
our tethers,
they are our feathers,
ironically,
the bonds that
caress in segments,
the grand confusion of time,
the singing buffoons in the void,
the crazy madmen we all are,
daily psychosis pills,
Excrement recipient,
that moment to moment,
preservation of existence,
Seems everything is going to hell,
in a hand basket,
yet the cave blares within,
a source of nihilistic capitalization,
Banging infants in Foot Lockers,
It should outrage,
All that progress is accomplishing,
segregation,
The isle of a certain strain,
The mental stimulants are similar,
they age appropriately,
it is comparative,
that we all understand,
Complying,
Sizing up and making the gentle leap,
In the wake it wouldn't mind,
if the time was right,
when you're ready,
then the exchange may happen,
A future can be fathomed,
Braving the Unknown's womb,
Past and present collide,
They lie,
Side by side,
like tin soldiers in the mud,
Anguish,
What fortune lies on our sidewalks,
What can be said,
About O so crazy madmen,
As they contort in the Unknown,
What is the amount worthy,
Assessed in some lab,
Looking down the lens we'd assume,
Kerouac atoms abound,
the Samsara principle,
of all them principles and none,
because we fraternize,
we tempt the fates,
Gerald said,
We exist in the scripts,
we sing on the shows,
we don't accept or comply,
we should look around,
and see Others,
A renouncing of old habits,
Don't call me a Dadaist,
*******,
I'm into the  primitivism,
in respect to our attention span,
we have a grip on ourselves,
almost,
Fatalistically we are born on the,
crest of a wave,
eternally throttled by chaos,
when the wave sank its teeth,
into the sands of the immediate generation's side,
That reins are there,
Now more than ever,
I guess we are too far gone,
That's what those fanatic fatalists think.

Each time I shave my face,
I scrutinize with my eyes,
To look for my mistakes,
But my eyes, they fraternize,
With the enemy on my chin,
And so, too late,
When on a date,
I feel them with my fingers

Witchdoctors of wall street
Maketh potions of poor man's disgrace

Angels still left on earth
Dying to get back to their place

Their sick of the heartbreak
Humans tend to bring

All it would taketh
Is a lightning strike
To make those humans fully believeth in pain!!!

Pillars of salt the cities hath become
Liquor stores to stupor one down

Some weareth pearly apparel
High class yet ( not found)

These fancy dressers
Pick and choose
The lives they wanna live

Whilst the angels sit on back
Saying do not taketh mine friend
But giveth...

Pilate like rulers
Rule by sharpened tongue
Making gods of figurine's
Lying in another mates secretion
Thinking they haveth won..

Cloying masters
Of tyrent rage
Emptied out of the bag
False lovers of nothing more
Than control whilst at hand

Club-women
And club-men
Hanging out at bar (clazelle)
Sold their soul to Satan
For a night of wine and hell

They fraternize their wicked schemes
Whilst making one quick buck
Wherein is that dying breed
Lost on mountain musk?

They freck thee with smooches
They leaveth thee the next day
Fratriciders of suicide
To their friends and family decay

Ideomotor ideas doth come
At least to those who art lost
Gaveth all they've had
For a fake idea and posh

But it shalt all endeth soon
The storms now rolling in
A hurricane of sweet refuge
No more cheaters to lovers sin!!

as a first timer, or
a satan

in the moments
after
a different
pill’s
return

father gives himself
the once
over

to fraternize
as before
with the born
again

At what point does something become unforgivable?
Is it the moment when all hope is lost?
When you strip the comfort of forever from an innocent mind?
When u fall so hard you shatter the ground those around u are standing on,
When you take the last breath of love from your lovers chest,
When you steal the beating heart from a sacred and beautiful bond,
When you fraternize with the enemy of your beloved for reasons unknown to all involved,
Is it when you reach your hand into the bowl of trust and leave nothing but ***** fingerprints?
Where is there to go when you’ve built walls of slippery vines
surrounding you,
suffocating you.
Who do you ask for help without bringing them down with you?
Misery loves company but no one loves misery.

I cannot be you.
I cannot be you and I cannot see you.
and I cannot see you so I must not know you.
But I want.
So, I try.

I stretch strenuous style
I attempt, un-content, not this station, not yet.
I can idolize I can fraternize I can hypothesize, but I can't empathize.

And it makes me mad.
So I try to be you
And i make one million miles a try
Just to make one for my-
self to grow and understand
but to be rigid and to stand
up for myself and not be swept adrift
to vie fora power I surrender to
unsinkable I strive.
I cannot be you but I'll do my damnedest to try.

I fraternize with chicks
half my age because I
want to get laid and
feel young.

primary idiopathic palmar/
palmoplantar hyperhidrosis
despite taking  Glycopyrrolate
2 MG Tablet three times daily.

Aforementioned physiological malady
the bane worse than death
unwanted and unwonted figurative
(metaphorical) beast of burden
linkedin with matrix constituting mine
corporeal essence genetically
gifted to yours truly,
invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably
afflicts, impacts, and upsets
emotional (mental) health
diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder
and aggravated, jump/kickstarted, triggered...,
when body electric
of mine experiences duress.

Tis no fun unable
to join in any reindeer games
(actually quite aggravating)
to experience chronic instances,
whereby profuse sweat drips
(think rivaling Angel Falls),
the loftiest falls on land
inducing extreme self
consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,
jeopardized, and sabotaged
against natural proclivity to fraternize,
thus avoidance behavior
(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced
way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet
(about 2 arm's length) from other people.
I vaguely recollect even while in utero
sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid
yet subsequently observing consternation
obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers
dripped - think faucet turned on full force.
Mein kampf (predominantly
describes solitary existence)
severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined
courtesy deux part and parcel
significant aforestated physiological
and social congenital afflictions
somewhat ameliorated by
about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed
within our single bedroom apartment
(we lucked out with unit B44
providing us scenic view)
climate controlled when weather
hazy, hot and humid
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
(you do the math to figure
the Centigrade temperature),
nevertheless these stubby
five fingered appendages
ooze perspiration on par
with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me
suffering one or more
dogged following plagues:
water turning to blood, frogs, lice,
flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,
locusts, darkness and killing
of firstborn children far less oppressive
versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout
understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably
linkedin within every fiber
moost likely activated since conception - mine
body electric infiltrated nerve wracking
complex corporeal edifice
interestingly enough solely overbearing
while yours truly wide awake
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting
and discombobulating
subconscious nocturnal experiences,
which frightful, maniacal, and
phantasmagorical vivid dreams
undermines, oppresses, and impinges,
any joie de vivre
creating abominable hell on Earth
thus this dirt poor commoner
pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal
(sell my soul to the devil)
in a desperate effort to secure
and pay King's ransom
to rid myself once and for all
of parasite entrenched nemesis
bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking
writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,
whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.

Earlier today April 4th, 2022,
which supersedes bald faced headlines
pointing finger and
Putin blame for Bucha killings
squarely on head & shoulders
of Russian autocrat, née
yours truly lathered
his hirsute higglety-pigglety
thinning oily tresses.

Hark….the herald angels sing,
snapchat and twitter Uber view doo
for mass communication mediums
stop the well conditioned presses
when I, a regular schlemiel
took shampoo to mine matted mass mop
(lame and feeble dreadful locks)
of straggly follicles, and commenced
to dispense with the heady ecosystem

viz rare crop of flora and fauna
(some rank as endangered species)
rub and band together
to scratch envy of flaky key
neigh bring ponytails
and create quite an niche,
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors,

who mane lee scout out
available head room to nap
without a stir, tub bed down
(praying  Holy Scott no wash out
nor Harris mint occurs),
or burrow vis a vis,
where subcutaneous porous droplet size
water ship down pieces of
prime residence found

counting one mister
comb lee bald faced realtor
amidst competing rival
bulb buss (h)Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee)
affianced to rapunzel,
whom he sheared split ends
as her barber of civil,
one dapper dan duh ruff dude to offer

lice cent shuss insects a tonsured cut
above other stylish habitués
(preferring to fraternize,
glad-hand, and hobnob
amidst a cluster of big wigs
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour
pads tightly secured
with the best dreadlocks,

which harum-scarum
green barrettes serve
as first line of rinse able defense
IdentityGuard (with franchisee
Bob O Link averse
to split hairs, but fierce
as a Mohawk and ring leader
to protect any curl of mine)
waving away intruders,

who if insist tubby persistent
and tangle with fate
cannot expect camaraderie
from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz
to give expletive filled lathering,
severe shame poo wing subjugation
plus an up braiding experience),
and teach stragglers
they will suffer a real perm

in hint bang up job
and experience embarrassing cut up
if they brazenly brush
against brylcreem of the crop
rooted as rightful heirs (hairs)
of tousled doo mane
and thus tail all told.

Acorns fraternize in the leaf litter, sifting through tired tales of falling.
A yellow sun cranks knives into yellow sinews of nearly perfect grey
where twilight is smiling for no reason,
and we all sleep overlong,
as our tomorrows
lapse into gone.

The Politics of Amber
Is how Love is not the first thing
that you know.
It buries the lead in the forefront
Of a Trojan Horse.
The mane, majestic in the wind-
up your aspirations.
But always where a weeping oak
Had a reason…

To paralyze a
Life.

Or Two.

Eventually vices will witness me crow king
cough'n affliction caw hearse courtesy
smok'n since me yay high,
hence appellation (mountain) wheezer
natural set of adult teeth (rotten to the core)  
easily plucked out courtesy tweezer,
this har nonestablishmentarian,
never prevaricator nor crowd pleaser,

whose barreled chest attests quantity
maximum grog, which equals capacity of keezer,
or analogous to quaffing
amount stout beer downed by yours truly
(rough estimation by dickens)
equivalent to hinted wealth of Ebenezer
Scrooge, who could hypothetically
purchase abundant amount of ale.

Above fabrication nonsense yay
figurative hook to grab attention my way
ain't one applicable factual word written,
cuz I take poetic license
with no intended off fence touché
harmless figurative foil
as usual trademark innocent word play
geezer who sports brown golden locks
employs good humor as keyway
to unlock mine mindscape entranceway.

After posting poem comb what may,
drink'n like vichyssoise floundering fiend,
I reluctantly brush aside
male pattern baldness without dismay,
cuz patrilineal genetic trait
shows no happy shiny pate
rather paternal ancestry
somewhat thick with strands
turning sixty plus shades of gray.

The following recounts true account
one hundred purse cent
actual bonafide certifiable event
attested to courtesy one germane gent
badinage represents laughable intent
as he deeply inhales cigarette brand Kent.

Though no physician,
this aging baby boomer
former long haired pencil necked geek
absolutely, intuitively, erroneously, and
unequivocally sensed hair loss (mine),
at first a speculative rumor
not simply rooted in my (ahem) head,
no matter a minimalist groomer

nevertheless, thinning follicles,
upon dawning realization, sans medical
sought relief thru good humor,
though within this balding cerebral noggin
became repulsive as if my scalp
pulled pate rendered as a tumor.

Thus an unexpectedly present surprise
when in private consultation in the guise
as out patient client (early afternoon
December 19th, 2018),
where I did fraternize
and kibitz with the medical assistant

(old enough to be my...sister),
aye did exercise
mild mannered mien mean, aye do patronize
before doctor Rudolf (dearly
reigned) Roth, a practicing
Dermatologist told me no lies

his instant karma knowledge - mainly his
thirty seven years expertise
sought to excise
a prominent non cancerous mole approximately
centered middle of back
a small patch of skin,

he needed to anesthetize
nonetheless, a reassuring persona,
yours truly did lionize
(not merely, cuz
he received a five star rating,
specialist under auspices

of Penn, Medicine)
in Radnor Pennsylvania),
his modest calm did neutralize
any uneasiness, as did his pronounced
humility earn kudos to idolize
such rarely present gentility, and

unwitting capacity did harmonize,
and maximize significance to me,
asper my thinning limp
hair logically rationalize
identified underactive thyroid gland

(hypothyroidism) tubby,
which didst legitimize
no hair brained rooted concern,
hence...less reason to catastrophize',
which for no reason I
wanted to mildly emphasize,
hence choice to apostrophize...

primary idiopathic palmar/
palmoplantar hyperhidrosis
despite taking  Glycopyrrolate
2 MG  Tablet three times daily.

Aforementioned physiological malady
unwanted and unwonted figurative
(metaphorical) beast of burden
linkedin with matrix constituting mine
corporeal essence genetically
gifted to yours truly,
invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably
afflicts, impacts, and upsets
emotional (mental) health
diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder.

Tis no fun unable
to join in any reindeer games
(actually quite aggravating)
to experience chronic instances,
whereby profuse sweat drips
(think rivaling Angel Falls),
the loftiest falls on land
inducing extreme self
consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,
jeopardized, and sabotaged
against natural proclivity to fraternize,
thus avoidance behavior
(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced
way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet
(about 2 arms' length) from other people.
I vaguely recollect even while in utero
sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid
yet subsequently observing consternation
obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers
dripped - think faucet turned on full force.
Mein kampf (predominantly
describes solitary existence)
severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined
courtesy deux part and parcel
significant aforestated physiological
and social congenital afflictions
somewhat ameliorated by
about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed
within our single bedroom apartment
(we lucked out with unit B44
providing us scenic view)
climate controlled when weather
hazy, hot and humid
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
(you do the math to figure
the Centigrade temperature),
nevertheless these stubby
five fingered appendages
ooze perspiration on par
with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me
suffering one or more
dogged following plagues:
water turning to blood, frogs, lice,
flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,
locusts, darkness and killing
of firstborn children far less oppressive
versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout
understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably
linkedin within every fiber
moost likely activated since conception - mine
body electric infiltrated nerve wracking
complex corporeal edifice
interestingly enough solely overbearing
while yours truly wide awake
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting
and discombobulating
subconscious nocturnal experiences,
which frightful, maniacal, and
phantasmagorical vivid dreams
undermines, oppresses, and impinges,
any joie de vivre
creating abominable hell on Earth
thus this dirt poor commoner
pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal
(sell my soul to the devil)
in a desperate effort to secure
and pay King's ransom
to rid myself once and for all
of parasite entrenched nemesis
bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking
writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,
whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.

The deer, for one
Know better than to fraternize with humans
And their mechanistic ways
With coffee and love and oil to burn
Les their own natural pattern be disturbed
And lost
In our perceptive order and ignorance
Of the ways of the turning world
Beneath our very feet
They'd better not
Learn

If I may
a word of advise to thieves and Extortionists
not that I know anything about your nefarious proclivities
as I do not fraternize with your sorts or attained a degree in Thiefology
However may I say
that as your stated intentions were to discredit, drive me paranoid
and subject me to your 'slow death' program
it would have helped you and your gang and Red cronies
if
your daughter Joanna did not directly verbally inform me
that I had picked up a bug
And your other various scumbags, hooligans, cronies, thugs and henchmen as well as those fooled and misled vigilantes
added from the onset, that
that my head was going to be done in
that you'll all put a million nits in my head
and a thousand worms in my ears
that my life was going to be made a living hell I would wish
I was dead
that character assassination, public humiliation was in operation  
that a vilified clone of my good-self has now been fabricated
that you are slinging so much mud at my stainless character
that you are blackening my name beyond redemption
that you will frustrate, isolate and make me a pariah
that you'll make certain I will never find anyone to trust or love ever again
and that
everything I say will be 'taken down and used against me'
SO PERHAPS
if in odious dastardly Narcissistic ARROGANCE
you had not voiced these all out to me gloatingly
who by the bye happens to be a trained journalist
with the journalistic abilities of Objectivity and Detachment
YOUR EVIL WICKED HEARTLESS INHUMANE DEVICES
would have given you the victim you so eagerly want
How can someone watching fooled, blinded, manipulated people
acting out silly ridiculous skits and street theatre performances
gas-lighting, running Fools errands and writing negative *****
the asinine bullying tactics of mobbing by crass mobsters and scums
One see all these as nothing but laughable, pathetic, pitiful, demeaning undignified nonsense by crass undignified lowlifes
SO THIEVES, ANARCHISTS, GANGSTERS and MOBSTERS
You may like to Now take it on-board
IF YOU WANT TO DRIVE SOMEONE PARANOID DO NOT TELL THEM FIRST and do not pick a journalist....
just saying!!!

Liz Taylor & Ken Anger said that James Dead was queer and contracted ***** & venereal disease. Big Frank Sinatra attended mob family reunions. He was called before congress to testify, under oath, about his life-long Mafia affiliations. We are judged by the company we keep. Those who fraternize with **** are identified as ****. DON'T talk with the police! Hold court in court! Don't hold court anywhere else.

Analogous to beckoning
think fickle finger of fate doth allure
gussied up with
windswept orange coiffure
tantalizes like a kid
in a candy store to explore
amidst treasure trove of words galore
recollecting when yours truly
a spunky lad though
physically, and emotionally immature

to curry spicy relationship
(aside from being oblivious
to a golden opportunity)
with Meena Ravel,
a high school classmate
of my younger Shari,
whereby both girl students
graduated with flying colors
invariably her parents
Kokeela (which means "cuckoo bird"
or "nightingale)" and Kishore

(meaning "young boy," "youth)"
got along swimmingly more
power to the merits
brought together
after their match finalized
during their respective childhood's end
thus all the more power
to an arranged marriage,
albeit a visible successful union.

The above potential prospect
for a charming lass to befriend
one among countless other opportunities
I never risked expressing interest
devoid of sense and sensibility to lend
a helping hand
(secretly entertaining fantasy
to become son in law)
as a modus modus operandi
convincing said parents
of aforementioned lass
their daughter a godsend
could have helped me transcend
feeling awkward in the presence
of a darling young pretty woman.

All throughout puberty
and emerging adulthood
yours truly family of mine
concerned, frustrated and infuriated
(courtesy mother of mine,
who evinced anger at me
for shirking looking for employment,
but instead went to nearby parks
such as Evansburg, or Valley Forge,
whereby I parked car

in secluded spot
and whiled the hours with attention
focused on webbed wide world of words)
they wondered why
the only male offspring
exhibited being painfully shy
and lacked even one fine companion
preferably of the opposite gender
(considered with reference
to social and cultural

differences well nigh
rather than biological ones),
and subsequently turned
attention of mine toward
the safe realm to appease
voracious appetite to glean knowledge,
and getting woozy,
yet naturally "high"
resulting from many
hours bearing witness

to whip smartness courtesy
reading various and sundry material
to fraternize with characters,
who peopled my overactive imagination
which poor substitute for livingsocial
found appeasement of mindscape
strewn with tears asian arid wasteland
heavily punctuated where I did cry.

Even now forfeited relationships
alleviated with thoughts of wanting to die.