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Lxvi Jun 2020
Everytime I see you online
I want to bottle you up
And label you mine
I'd keep you in dark
Ferment you forgotten
Think of a drink
But now you are rotten
Here, meet the sink.
A sea of emotions
But you are my seal
I'd sooner drown
Than say how I feel
Clammer clammer
Fumble stammer
Once more to the fray

Tripping skipping
My mind is slipping
Slip slip-sliding away

Out my nose
Oh, There it goes!
Running away from me

Take a rest
Catch my breath
I thought it'd never leave

Now I'm great
As a dinner plate
Of serving sized crazy

Truths and dares
And pinkyswears
Huckle-berry daisies
"A poem has to rhyme."
said Mrs. Huckle
She looked over my piece
so disdainful
I turned away ashamed
my thoughtlessness to blame
And I lost what made me, me
I lost my creativity
Oracle of delphi
for meager tithe
as per usual end
of year shibboleth,
and thus this hoop
fully ville explain,
the substance and pith
viz, where new

years eve hullabaloo,
without relevance comprising search
(boot not captcha) of myth
huckle Harris beast
purported relation of kin and kith,
rumored to inhabit
vicinity of Vermouth Avenue and fifth.

Hence, the follow
wing conjecture made
without axe sing myself why,
nonetheless alluding to some
anonymous kvetcher in the vye

maybe even reef fur
ring to yours
truly, or hypothetical stranger upbye
the outer limits of twilight zone,
unseen, whose extrasensory

divinity cain espy
telescopic ability insightful
able to see tie
knee imperceptible electronic bi
nary nano piercing

bits racing like a fly
ling infinitesimal Karamazov
brother, thru invisible
ethereal mist keen as a tigereye
that seemingly never blinks

despite vision hampered by
hordeolum, more commonly
known as stye
inducing inflammation i.e.
red tender bump

at the edge of well nigh
browbeaten eyelid, hence redeye,
perhaps dissimilar, yet
equally painful as pinkeye,

which conjunctivitis
preferable well nigh,
then slogging thru gobbledygook
thankfully, this harmless wordsmith
bids thee goodbye.

— The End —