What do you do when the world comes crashing down on you?
What do you think is the best way to go about it?
I don't always know what to do when it's unexpected
I just go with the rhythm of the beat of the bass drum
Feel the wind in my hair and dance to the weight of the freedom
I just let the butterflies take flight, such beautiful insight
Watch the heat of the moment ignite with the passion of magics bright light
Life is short
Life is fast
Life can be humdrum
I've seen my worst, I've tried my best and still suffer from confusion
I know my type, I know the pain
I feel insync, but I've lost my brain
All at once, I've paid my dues
Pushed my limit and had everything to lose
Such a wonderful kind of enchanted mind of being lost and being wrong
And I laugh it off with a silly smurk
A sarcastic joke because I've been hurt
And I might not be right where I want to...
But I'm where I'm at and absolutley love where I've been

Crooked fingers grasp,
A nearing empty bottle in my left hand.
Your hand,
Loosely gripped in my right.
The cigarette that hangs from my cracked lips,
We'll follow into the night.

Seventeen years too old,
Left looking for cheap thrills.
Waiting for an early death to unfold,
Brought on by unprescripted,
Prescription pills.

It's cliche and *******,
But all I can write about is unsatisfactory coffee,
And harsh, stale, half-lit cigarettes.
My thoughts and hands are not insync,
Like when my own hands stopped me from drowing in the kitchen sink.

Two birds sat in a cage
Young and wild at heart
To only partake as simple acquaintances
Only to know this was not done by chance
It's a bond of the heart
A natural music of trance
An every morning beauty awakened as souls sing perfectly insync
To be so perfect truly was the affect.
But one perfect day turned so bleak ..
When this cage that made up their world was left open and  out fled her forever without hesitation just a constant flutter along with a good bye carnation..

She sits now alone for days within her open cage only staring at her flower waiting now for her lost forever with no movements only the quietest sigh as she purtches up alone on one leg and forces herself to sleep..

Two birds hopeless
Once insync ..
With that a promise to never  let go..

With no known return for my poor forever bird .. alone she must stay.. saddens my heart as a tear drops for a forever love to be broken apart from a world thats so true and beautifully wrecked .. poor bird please be strong don't let go . please don't tell me you won't stay with me that it won't be too long.

© Jenn Linh

The crowd stares at me in disbelief, they're trying to tell me how to dress,
like the left wing says my jeans are too short, it's unaccustomed to them,
the solution is to loosen my comfort and enjoy the prospects
of being taken hostage by a system that assists in my demolition,
I'm not perfect, I'm not beautiful. They preach it through musicals,
that acoustical tune that says the world is watching every step,
so every breath is not my own to control, I'm holding a cane
that doesn't make me stand taller, doesn't make me stand bolder,
that says the older I get, the more of these I will have to buy.
So I look up to the sky wondering how in the world I got here
a beard, some faded jeans telling me what it means to be amazing,
amazing as defined by pop star icons is found in the way you dressed
not in the depth of your soul, not in the acceptance as a whole
but in the pressed on nails and roaming around with flesh on sale.

I do not live by the words of the left wing nor the right wing
I live within my own world where the words soothes my soul,
there's a hole in my chest but it isn't being filled with clothing
because closing a hole with materials is not as filling as it is.
I do not care how I dress, as long as my purpose is intact
I will not be trapped inside a system that assists in my demolition.

The people in the crowd looks to me, says your purpose-
is to sling curses at an old lady with a veteran husband
that the nation trusted, sling curses at an old lady
who lately struggles to sleep as she seeps into the bottle.
The people in the crowd looks to me, says your purpose
is to worsen the lives of those around me, that old lady
who as of lately suffers from arthritis, with shaking hands
tell her you plan to disrespect her because she is a wreckage
unworthy of salvaging so you're doing a hefty good deed.
The people in the crowd says it is all in the name of being cool,
shattering lives, taking knives from drawers
and drawing in people who self harm to help calm their bloods
with a slice of a blade, this mistake after the next,
a blade forgets the wrist but the people don't shut up.
They look at us, like we are their chopping boards
playing tic-tac-toe with an ink they can afford,
each hateful name is a checkered stain across a wrist
that has been kissed by mothers and stitched by doctors.

The people in the crowd says to me, how do you expect-
any respect dressed as a draped over curtain, for certain-
you are earthen for a purpose and that purpose is to show yourself;
dress like hell is awaiting and the heaven is sacred,
dress like a patriot but swear foul things towards your country,
do it for the money or don't do it at all.
The people in the crowd looks at me, up and down,
their face forms a frown like a rainbow made from hate,
a greyish drab sweeps over their face and they know
that I'm gone.

I taught hate towards myself where a pill in a bottle won't feed it
I've beaten myself to blue and pink where my instincts to be insync
with hatred is but a tempo in a song. I look to the crowd
and question are you proud? I've been alive, trying to minimise
the time I have left before I expire and in this light
I might just give fight to the wrong cause
because I'm lost. A pill in a bottle won't fix what's broken
I've soaked in the word of the crowd for so long
that I'm long gone.

I hope that I can stand tall, stand bolder,
grow older, grow wiser to love myself
and not need help on learning to love.

I cannot stop thinking about
your body next to mine,
molding the thought of you into
my side.
Your breaths insync with mine; your heart beating with mine.
My thoughts retracing the nights
when your body was mine.

My parts are dismantled
They lay scattered
Occupying the corners in this empty house
So sometimes it's not that lonely

My lungs are deflated
I think a kid came around wanting to play and kicked it way too hard

Nobody knows this
But everytime I move or breathe
My nerves scream or hold their breath
Because about two nights ago
I layed parallel to the white dotted line on the street
I meant to get up but I thought that if I tried hard enough, I could communicate telepathically with the stars and then maybe get closer to heaven
The wheels of a truck made me one with the earth for about 6 seconds
And because my anatomy is empty and numb
The fingers of my ribs caved in
Like the roof of a house built around a broken family

I got popcorn for a horror movie marathon
I couldn't sleep for weeks thereafter because sometimes even if I shut my eyes so tight I exposed every wrinkle
Or blocked my ears so much that I caused an imbalance in the pressure
I could still see and hear the images and the voices

Present day:
It's raining outside
And I don't know if it's because
Of the insync instrumentals of the raindrops hitting the floor at different frequencies, almost like a lullaby
Just like the time when it was just you and I
When all we had planned to do was sweet nothings
And sometimes, if I was lucky
I'd hear you sing too
But it's days like these when your absence makes my house tremble and sometimes even shatters a window

But then the grey skies slowly break
And it is as if a servant had opened up the palace doors to make way for the King

The Sun tears the mirage
And tells me
That it wasn't the kid
You took all the air along with you when you left
It wasn't a truck
When your foot kissed the hard ground just outside the door, it heard the deafening cracks form their way across my structure
I am empty because I gave you glasses half full
It was not a horror movie
It was images of you being too far gone
And your voice
Like a broken record saying
*Love isn't always enough

Lodged squarely upon corporeal property
(i.e. necessary soft tissue)
of Amelie Beth Harris-McGeehan
mine eldest sister,
when medical technician informed
aforementioned unpleasant tidings
earlier today February 25th.

Utmost grievousness grips
analogous to invisible
strong hands strangulating
"I can't breathe"
while grappling trying to process
apocalyptic forebodings
(impinging on mine corporeal
fifty plus shades of gray matter).

Impossible mission
(insync with absent impetus),
thus renders feeble attempt
crafting poem,
yet unbridled (hyperbole
employed to accentuate emotion)
regarding brotherly love
upon being informed
most unpleasant tidings.

Laughter and sunshine
eradicated in one fell swoop
absolute zero peace of mind
until fortune teller
peers into crystal ball
and invokes divine intervention

whereby life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness
buffets thee along
countless additional Earth orbits
around the sun
granted second lease on life.

Auspicious signs of
early birds taking wing
(in an effort to feast
upon diet of worms)
to celebrate advent of Spring
will be uber twittering
glad tidings of your
clean bill of health
ditto chattering squirrels
buzzfeeding unearthed

soil, mushrooms
and animal bones,
while yours truly delights
reading within partially secluded
outside triangulated nook,
(a favorite alcove of mine)
to bask under sheltering sky
feeling restoration of vitality
courtesy Herculean strength
of Mister Sun's powerful solar rays.

PostScript: my humblest apology
if word first choice constituting title
caused undue agitation,
cuz only genuine expression
courtesy unwavering optimism
insync with sixth sense intended
to trumpet Taj Mahal high hope
buoying your body,
mind, and spirit triage.

After most recent shower,
and particularly washing hair
(then shaking head
analogous to sopping wet dog
drying her/himself after a bath),
I immediately said helloo
to Long lasting fragrance Suave
essentials Daily Clarifying
Deep cleansing Shampoo,
which permeated mine scalp
facilitating healthy follicles.

More so frothy lather upon noggin
after getting rinsed out
yielded bounteous, luscious, luxurious,
and marvelous full bodied tresses
reminiscent when yours truly an adolescent,
a veritable long haired pencil necked geek
whose hirsute trademark
still characterizes atypical sexagenarian
above mentioned characteristic
still (after scores of years)
emblematic of this enigmatic poetaster.

Ever since being in utero
soon after seminal fusion
insync with fallopian tube bearing ova
begot zygote courtesy said gametes,
and engendered silent boom
after piercing zona pellucida
creating microscopic flume,
nevertheless collection of cells
coalescing into embryo
eventually manifesting into yours truly,

I painstakingly took minuscule
comb and brush to groom,
and dreaded most fearfully being locked,
where pair of outsize scissors did loom
threatening to cut thick,
what could best be envisioned analogous
to imperceptible fancy plume
hich features specific feature
drew medical community
(i.e. namely human reproductive specialists)

constituted extensive expanse
within blastocyst very limited room
crowd sourcing out rivaling curious onlookers
formerly geared up
to espy King Tutankhamun's tomb
can you dear reader believe
a hairy globule within the womb
became global attraction
viz - of a young fecund Harriet Harris,
cuz about nine months later
out the birth canal I did zoom.

If my Feet
We're wet
Submerged
Insync
Without time itself

insync, especially with Amitiza delivered solid ecstasy

Without shadow of doubt
I feel much relief
though literally pooped out
attested courtesy following
(oft posted poem
written some years ago
in short self plagiarism),
where funhouse mirror

humorously distorts physique
disproportionately skinny or stout
as though plagued
with excess adipose tissue
in reality paunch throughout
abdominal area mine
self evident yours truly
generic guy does not work out.

As of early/mid afternoon
today - November 30th, 2021
I could not but barely move
mine whole body felt
analogous to sluggish mollusk
frequent constipation found me
doubled over in gastrointestinal agony
as if elephant or red (livid with rage)

I've re: created how bull
heaver in fiber ****** his tusk
into lower abdominal area dawn to dusk
ah...voila... hence subsequently
blessed natural laxative,
the magic of Daily Fiber
100% natural psyllium husk
also known as metamucil.

Upon sprinkling two doses powder pack,
which orange flavor sweetened
the missus mishmash pop slop
not aesthetically pleasing major drawback
heavy as a full coalsack
sometimes burned and scorched black
movement came swift, on par how fast
snaky Mister Plumber doth attack
obstructed ***** bowl.

Well now... monumental poetic challenge,
I now craftily abbreviate
(think clogged toilet synonymous with blockage) 
waste matter after days did accumulate
ready to apply corkerasp
regarding ****** blockage to alleviate.

Imagine impossible mission to defecate
which debilitating scenario mine accursed fate
frequently recurring more often as yours truly
i.e. latter day saint Matthew Scott got older
****** affliction compromised me
ordinary easy going demeanor
disallowing, disenabling, and not permitting
me - effecting, emulating, and exhaling
Tony the tiger's catchword grrrrrreat

if queried about my constitution
absolute ecstasy found me
expelling bowel movement
weighing approximately hundredweight
though relieved, nevertheless
the toilet bowl clogged,
correcting historical records
on two accounts despite
causing potential ruckus
disaster buffs may incriminate

nsync notion huge bowel movement
(mine) took down (analogous
voyage to bottom of sea) toto Lusitania
and actually additionally
caused separate incident
complex edifice (think Titanic)
both sturdy ships of state
former rendered
latter purportedly crashing
into iceberg me mate.

------------------------------------------------

Lemme explain the essence of a corkerasp

Whenever constipation a pain in the ***
just maneuver this lightweight
metal contrivance made of brass
no matter if anybody
considers this action crass

apply corkscrew motion up the
alimentary canal to remove waste
which most likely will be
thick like petrified paste
stuck deep inside bowels of the
sphincter muscles and solidly encased

causing severe cramps within
lower gastrointestinal tract
inducing one to wince nonstop
from being with ***** matter packed
and no amount of primal groaning
doth loose this hard fact

nor does imagery of freed ****
ease the **** plight
no laughing matter despite how absurd
squeezing does nothing even
applying all inner might

thus necessary to incorporate
unnatural intervention to unclog
****** blockage + uncomfortable bloating
swelling **** the size of a hog
disabling barely any ease to stand let alone jog
yet tis essential per extricating what
feels like one swallow a log
lest epitaph induce impossible eulogy
unless spoken the language of Prague.

Every ounce of effort
required to bend
over gingerly affixing
plunger end of device
to business rear end
best accompanied with close
companion or friend
since ***** deed done dirt
cheap trick will ideally rend
rock solid excrement to roll
and crashing sound send

upon the bathroom floor
possibly inducing seismic
waves less or more
whereby toilet bowl water will pour
over the sides akin to
white caps near sea shore
without doubt making
gluteus maximus extremely sore.

Russian soldiers in general
and Vladimir Putin in particular
perpetrate outright injustice
against Ukrainian population.

Impossible mission to comprehend
the mindset of belligerent, egotistical,
indignant, *******, tsarist
self anointed totalitarian zealot.

Gross violation of human rights
blatantly carried out
courtesy diabolical genocidal horror
directly linkedin to Kremlin
official residence of president
of Russian Federation since 1991.

Jackknifed world wide web
teeters on the brink
of economic collapse
as mayhem rents asunder
western country Ukraine
the general Slavic word
for 'frontier region'
and 'marches' which referred,
most likely, to territories
of Kyivan Rus'.

Violation of basic covenant
imposes life and death
decision for multitudes
to flee their homeland
forsaking personal property
and cherished mementos
irreplaceable treasured trappings
left for invaders to ransack.

Those very villainous vultures
(metaphorically speaking or writing)
namely enemy Russian soldiers
bolster weaponry equipage
with disproportionate advanced
terrorizing precision machines
such as warplanes and Kalibr
(Caliber) cruise missiles,
carried by warplanes;
and Iskander missiles

allowing, enabling, and providing
a range of up to 500 kilometers
(around 300 miles);
The Soviet-designed Grad (Hail),
Smerch (Tornado) and Uragan
(Hurricane) multiple rocket launchers
designed to fire a salvo
of powerful rockets
to destroy concentrations
of troops or military equipment;
Cluster munitions and
thermobaric weapons.

Mass exodus of population
floods neighboring countries
Poland, Romania, Slovakia,
Hungary and Moldova
dazed and confused refugees
making journey across borders
crammed analogous to sardines
nevertheless hospitable strangers
welcome them with opened arms.

Without question scads of people
vulnerable to psychological ills
oversaturated with melancholia
concerning countless losses,
albeit violently wrenched
out their homeland,
whereat sons and father mandated
to stay behind and
defend the motherland
against surfeit of military might.

Meanwhile daughters and mothers
the latter saddled, and encumbered
with small children and pets
trundle toward safe haven
instantaneous citizenship guaranteed
no holds barred, nor no bolds hard.

Contrast the above with other
persecuted peoples most
allotted with melanin
and insync with attendant
definitive physical characteristics
populating marginalized jinxed
African, Central/South American,
Haitian, Mexican... regions
suffer worse fate than death

beleaguered, destitute hardship linkedin
with cutthroat fearsome insidious
lurking opportunistic ravenous
United States agents ready
to deport and send them back,
where certain misery
and interminable suffering
predictable as Earth will
rotate along 23.5 degrees
from plane of its orbit
around the sun
come the morrow.

Though aghast at grave atrocity
within the killing zone of Ukraine
will subsequently reconfigure, rejigger,
and reshuffle the Russian syndicate
of extreme wealth including Putin
controlling, governing, and
manipulating the franchise.

~ May fourth, 2005
wedded bliss nearly fifty years
half a century almost
me not most favorite grown offspring,
she (when alive) did boast,
about youngest sister and her family,
unlike me – severely socially withdrawn
a veritable wallflower
as a result, I suffered emotional contusions.

When thru life yours truly did
nervously, frightfully, blisteringly coast,
nevertheless her spirit dwells
within wonky tonk prodigal host
crafted in the following poem he doth post
holding tumblr full of favorite brew
probiotic kombucha drink
to thee mother dearest
foregone fading memories
your long haired heir does toast.

Often these days,
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share
how one and only son,
remembers his mother
cuz about eighteen years
after she succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness
he trots out and updates yearly
a poem initially crafted
when she passed away.

I still reckon eyes how yours truly
analogous to the fountainhead  
of Atlas shrugged off,
whose fanciful essence coalesced
immensely helped  sired,
and yelped ****** ******
when ******* ***** in heat whelped  
at what human biology wrought
doggone muttering schlep
despite being nurtured,

proffered, and registered
tender loving care
within whose womb,
a mature haploid female cell
experienced fertilization courtesy
complimentary male haploid *****
underwent fertilization yielding
zygote thru mother nature's gestation
this sole male offspring born,
thus subsequently after her demise,
yours truly shouldered himself with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
when she felt the scythe of the grim reaper
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
when all mine troubles
(emotional, financial, and physical)
moost definitely
no more farther away
then present moment.

Tempus fugit popular worded couplet
brings Latin alive with succinct precision
or imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
analogous to last remaining
grains representing sands of time
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber.

Just prior when coroner decreed death,
yet once in a lifetime opportunity prevailed,
wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
(analogous to sitting Shiva)
of she who begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
figuratively and literally
wracked and pinioned once fitness
and health conscious, flirtatious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,
dinged, harangued, peppered
nefarious carcinoma by dint of
common atomic beastie boy
among certain Semitic people
linkedin to presumptuous inbreeding.

According to google search
frequency of breast, ovarian,
and uterine cancer among Ashkenazi
elicited revelatory statistic
1% of all Ashkenazi Jews
living today inherited
a defective copy of one
of their BRCA2 genes.

Unbeknownst to them,
these carriers of BRCA2 mutation
at increased risk for developing
breast, ovarian, prostate
and pancreatic cancer.

Indomitable esprit de corps
eradicated courtesy regimen of
chemotherapy and radiation,
which latter malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately sixty nine years past),
whose coy and coquettish demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm
of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother
out of misery (a veritable battleground)
where she did silently rage into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,

nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,
not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly
cold stone pilot less body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited when mama alive)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partially listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
where family of mine then resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection
regarding once young bride,
(who metaphorically
smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),

cuz he (yours truly) overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated
at me boyhood home
once located upon
six plus wooded acres;
324 Level Road
constituted the whittled down
once sprawling Leiper Estate,
which encompassed about
one hundred plus acre wood
home to Winnie the Pooh.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented
(albeit verbally traumatized)
yours truly, upon attaining
mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations
greatly exacerbating
emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained

akin to fountainhead spewing
painful pelting piercing
poisonously pummelling (python like
hashtagged with moniker Monty)
down upon these
considerably mooch younger lovely bones,
whose anger (mine) smoldered
linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within me
every holy moly molecule.

Mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with
both my non twisted sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey
and the younger staked out
modest digs within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently soon scythe
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house, I now conclude.

(today February nineteenth
two thousand and twenty two)
helps me to become more adept
crafting literary endeavors.

Remembrance of past circumstances
and/or happenstances,
which trials and tribulations
(particularly warm fuzzy memories)
brings to cobweb riddled mind
a quaint uncomplicated existence,
where childhood excitement arose
simply acquiring library card,
thenceforth selecting choice books

idling away leisure hours
mainly during twelve week long
summer school break
blissfully reading away,
the closest approximation
one strawberry blond Unitarian lad
experienced seventh heaven.

Ever since ability to read taught me
courtesy mother dearest,
I (when a happy go lucky little boy)
found pleasant escape
thru webbed wide world
of mine imagination
insync with printed words on page
which aforementioned attestation
declaration, habituation, mention,
situation, and zonation
bred fervent quest to quench
insatiable thirst for knowledge.

Fast forward when yours truly
experienced emerging adulthood,
upon which stage of mein kampf,
he began to cobble, dabble, scribble...
crafting poems about hardscrabble
emotional life challenges in Lake Wobegon
(I tip figurative hat to Garrison Keillor).

These averred literary endeavors wrought
usually comprising about dozen lines
cautiously, deliberately, extemporaneously,
noisily, obviously painstakingly keyed
courtesy Underwood typewriter brand
qwerty alphanumeric character arrangement
visualize index finger accessing
sought after hunt and peck method.

I exerted mental effort,
(and still put creative juices
thru their paces) to apply
words and punctuation
application of colon
and semi;colon quite nettlesome
resident with the English Language.

Upon espying a signature poem of mine
forces unleash mental processes
(triggering gears and cogs
to turn slowly within noggin)
scrutinize early feeble
linkedin with pervasive pre
ponder ring lurking predilection
tib hush anonymous re: dears
(dares) adventuresome mettle
taking him/her to the brainy
(briny) deep brink Icon fess this

(NON FAKE) pretense,
why aye metaphorically express
courtesy medium of ordinary
Anglophile alphabetic wonton poetrysoup,
or figurative egg drop bubbling broth
(el) doth brew) pronouns Sibyl affectation
affliction sans plethora,
where each ladle full adrip with
richly flavor Times New Roman
Font size twelve
sincerely textured vocabulary.

Above title attests
how mine mundane mein kampf
insync as a veritable clogged drain oh:
flush with adventure overflowing excrement
er... rather excitement.

Apt aforementioned accurate personal description
believe me not, but urination
and defecation née emergency evacuation,
where majority of human league
smell bound with fascination
triggered (reasonably rhyming) inspiration
culmination of requisite time
sitting atop porcelain goddess
devoid of hesitation and trepidation
herewith follows mine poetic ululation
hoop fully invites veneration.

Poetic embellishment doth belie
ever since garden variety generic guy
long since experienced being little boy
mean kids constantly teased and bullied me
on account yours truly being small fry
barely invisible to naked eye
bullied (most my entire boyhood)
as scapegoat, I did decry
pleading lame feeble alibi,

especially when tawny punk
named Phil (actually a groundhog)
threw suckerpunch witnessing,
yours truly feigned falling
upon wounded knobby knee
to avoid me countenance being pummeled
courtesy knuckle sandwich
they threatened to apply.

One puny socially verily withdrawn lad
no surprise experienced suicidal ideation
throughout public school even as undergrad
never wagon figurative tail when fired
from one after another workstation.

Hence metaphorically hermetically sealed self
against incessant beastie boys squirreled away
amidst imaginative escapes courtesy bookshelf
isolates myself, viz remaining figuratively at bay
interestingly enough petrified livingsocial whereby
flesh and bone closely resembled hardened clay

hashtagged Matthew Scott Harris as pipsqueak
deadset to halt physical maturation without delay
anorexia nervosa (modus operandi) did buzzfeed
starved and emaciated lovely bones as main entree
unbeknownst then, but clear as a bell now
emotional state of parents unspooled and didst fray
father and mother aghast their pallor went ashen gray

grim reaper wielding large scythe intimating hooray
approximately half dozen years later
both parents relentlessly vilified verbally hammered
and especially didst inveigh
against their sole singular son
born thirteenth of January
hooded think those folks
who begot me more cruel fate
then being lynched courtesy triple "K."

Gambone builders bought property razed demesne
to escape vitriolic wrath atop roof at Glen Elm, I lay
nevertheless indelible memories emotional reprieve
spiritual succor delivered upon many a bygone May
when heat radiating off shingles served newgateway
passing time and wishing myself far as Norway
adopting role of bachelor farmer,
or even time traveling
back Catskills circa Borscht Belt,
also known as Jewish Alps oy vey.

Yours truly risk averse
which characteristic,
I declare constitutes curse
thus isolation found me sprawled out
upon wuthering heights
against regular diet of diatribes
delivered carte blanche
with expletive filled verse
toward solitary son ill fate
receiving nasty brutal abuse
considered dying far less worse.

Precious minutes and hours atop
seven gabled hideaway blithely did elapse
me gingerly scuttling out attic window
though agoraphobic and loathe to drop
distance and no longer courting death
no matter concluding life (during
early/mid twenties) total flop
merely wishing raging machinations
against male offspring would stop.

Hurtful words yelled after papa
guzzled bottles of vermouth
(not really, I admittedly prevaricate)
courtesy late father and mother
resoundingly, severely, terrifyingly,
wickedly, violently uncouth
subjected imbalanced earthling
(yours truly - me)
think venomous metaphorical
****** blackened barbs,
viz inconveniently grossly, egregiously

one after another hurtful
figurative daggers antithesis of truth,
albeit synopsis regarding
second born (middle child - sole son)
begat courtesy Harriet and Boyce
upon their psychologically harried
flesh out the womb of young mother
(both parents now long since deceased)
now said heir long in the tooth
wordsmith here wonders why forsooth
he tolerated torturous abuse.

(or swing sets and monkey bars)

A pitch perfect spring day
such as today April 8th, 2022
within quaint hamlet
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
in close proximity within mind's eye
to Lake Wobegon, Minnesota
finds me reminiscing...

When, scads of light years ago
(half life of mein kampf),
while yours truly,
at that time a father linkedin
emotionally, mentally and socially
kibitzing with his two young adorable girls,
ah charming children indeed
(totally unbiased opinion that)
both sweet lassies to boot
figuratively got their daddy
tightly wrapped around all four

of their middle fingers,
matter of fact coercive Munchkin,
and her younger sibling Shayna Punim
both whose playful rebukes
courtesy daughters role playing
stern yet affectionate “mama,”
this papa feigned not to heed,
maybe begetting a boy
(cuz I ofttimes then
envisioned being pro creative
regarding bequeathing XY chromosomes

which engendered gifting us a son;
i.e. ideally conceived male child -
obviously at mercy
of biological random chance
genetic material receiving
proper allotment to garner
personal pronoun predicated
upon strict binary addressable as he/him),
when reproductive gamble roulette
never did yield nor diploid offspring
to carry forth Harris surname

constituting for good measure
genetic qua mixed breed,
would have elicited contrary response,
when playing reversed roles
whereby Matthew Scott the kid
(Billy me) not docile like his real self
and his imaginary male progeny
aplomb (fig your at Tivoli) found me
taking his fruitful lead
apple lee going bananas acceptable
make believe games regarding

above named adult playing
mischievous, innocuous, harmless
behavior committing neither
illegal transgression nor misdeed
from this grown man,
Sir Wren during self to architect
landing flat on me then
palm pilot sized ***
(measured by Andre the Giant)
as if drunk from mead,
where playfulness my creed

those were the days my friend...
years ago that streamed
flicked across thee ethereal net
at lightspeed, I experienced
manifest destiny nsync
with government assigned
mummy dearest head shrinker
taking eminent domain freed
Aladdin side me, those decades,
sans long gone fatherhood
plus roles he learned to succeed

recalling catfights ('twixt
daughters) he assertively refereed,
who cherished those
offspring, he did seed -
reckons adult opportunity
gifted yours truly mentoring
with excellence they did exceed
unlike yours truly
he rarely ever let loose maybe once,
the scairt (of his own shadow) boy inside
subsequently cowering frightened lad,

healthy development anxiety did impede
his spontaneity ****** and leveed,
thus renaissance awoke
to travel back in time
reliving boyhood non disrupted,
and prior to parenthood,
would be less apt to concede
how natural to bond with progeny
fostered by being keyed
into esprit de corps of biological charges,
now grown without need,

nor want of his company (halt)
sudden embarrassment that person,
whose absence in
“My Struggle” did bleed
unstaunched sadness till affixing
available spare time with books to read,
and poems to write attempting to feed
an errant stray tear every now and again,
more pronounced as father time guaranteed
begetting precious bundles of joy,
how pedestrian days

of yore like a tumbleweed
(think T.S. Elliot)
rocketed them thru preschool, kindergarten...
high school, college now this doddering
doth oft attempt (with futility) to reach them...
even cherished memories insync
with Jack and Jill Truck klaxon dost recede.

to mein kampf insync with mine body dysmorphia

After reading articles
published within April 4/11 2022
of The Nation
I challenged the efficacy
taking prescription medication
categorized as SSRIs
and/or SNRIs.

Unpleasant side effects
such as earth shaking dreams
and/or especially hefty weight gain
linkedin with former
comprising my daily cocktail
of approved prescription medication
courtesy nurse practitioner.

Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche
fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,

though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.

Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty three)
plagued with similar thoughts,
**** genetics did maliciously engineer

clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare

re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,

though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy

Shayna Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona

doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware

lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide in tandem
with Old Rotten Gotham
into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,

hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention
offspring boldly did declare

indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly **** this sonneteer!

Suffocation experienced analogous
to absent echocardiogram
or electroencephalogram blip
(Derek Chauvin - he of
George Floyd infamy) iron maiden grip
linkedin with psyche subjected
to laceration courtesy cruel horse whip
mine inexcusable
(albeit clueless faux pas)
family members living social in Bend, Oregon
and Oakland, California did yip
private information across cyberspace did zip.

Apology (ex post facto)
extended regarding about
mine guilt ridden conscience
programming mental state
think sufferable infinite
jesting Möbius strip
casting dark shadow of doubt
looping along outer limits
of twilight zone
futilely shucking off
emotional tailspin (kamikaze) fallout
impossible mission
unable to muzzle or thwart lout

who poetically blurts out
simian old routine programmed
erroneously heavily incorrectly
peppers entire Hollerith
or IBM punched cards
yielding botched defenseless redoubt,
when Yankee doodles dandy
teapot short and stout
convection currents trigger
whistle Dixie when liquid piping hot
a microcosm concerning plate tectonics
across webbed wide world
yielding necessary oomph
to migrating trout.

Absent awareness
flourished amidst ignorance
sixty plus shades of gray matter
hotly doth smolder and burn
unbeknownst rancor did furiously churn
when yours truly divulged
he made aborted attempt
to couch his genuine
paternal care and concern
lack of discrimination
and judgment I did not
(honest to dog) recognize nor discern.

Understandable blameworthy
grievance against me,
not granted app parent permission
thus culpability I obediently yield
words that sparked hurt
now utilized to wield
heft to communicate authentic love
(cryptically coded)
and hermetically sealed
hopefully in due time
mine discretion well healed.

Comeuppance generated
desire to **** self awoke
resolution to make amends
bedevils this bloke
who deservedly receives just desserts
invisible hand doth choke
living daylights, hence
nightmare scenario I evoke.

Following objective forthwith
pained papa doth aim
constitutes feeble attempt made
to reach out and accept blame
reckless transgression
to spout warrants claim
if religious, thence within perdition

while still alive
mine flesh set fire to flame
analogous to burnt offering
even that sacrifice considered lame
imposed upon lovely bones,
I cannot utter nor name
one garden variety primate repurposed
thru cremation his cruelty destiny will tame.

Awfulness permeates nerve wracked soul,
because behavior concerning yours truly
hashtagged boneheaded rogue
(as easily attested to courtesy the missus),
indiscriminately sharing sensitive information
innocently celebrating their joys and sorrows
concerning welfare of deux biological chicas 
which pathetic body, mind and spirit triage
attributed to where fool rushed into
where angels fear to tread.

No ambition, exertion, inspiration... arose
these last few days melancholy grows
a brief lull occurred,
whereby lack of crafting poems or prose
insync engulfed and teed off par
for the course
stainless steel pitch forked shows
with mettlesome irony
(perhaps witnessed
by dearth of posting)
finding me figuratively pitched
upon horns of dilemma.

Far from human league,
(more'n mark twain fathoms
into deep purple troubled waters)
I flounder amidst flotsam and jetsam
mankind receding toward lost horizon adios
at sea within Lake lachrymose
moody blue foo fighting
wretched beastie boy feels morose.

Subsequent diminution to write,
nevertheless mustered
aforementioned reasonable rhyme
attempting to describe psychological plight
thru arranging words, I take flight.

Already noticeably marked
increase in daylight
yours truly courtesy affected
qua heliotropic phenomenon
finds me noggin gently being tugged
upward and westward ** toward sun
after dark mine talking head
rests downward and eastward.

Soon very indistinct
environmental intimations
regarding onomatopoeic
ubiquitous murmurings,
whereby old man winter
ever so faintly
relinquishes, loosens, forsakes...
Judas Priest iron maiden grip
upon emergent biosphere
suddenly awakened when
Mother Earth generates

invisible signals transmitted
across world wide web
analogous to conductor
standing on podium
with baton in her/his hand
orchestra playing on cue
perhaps choice selection
Rite of Spring
work by Russian composer Igor Stravinsky
or Flight of the Bumblebee
written by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov.

Soon dormant species will exhibit rebirth
out their linkedin hibernation
flora and fauna tentatively
begin to issue forth out their slumbers
shoots poke thru across terra firma
insync with twittering tweeting creatures
hint viz verdant and/or fecund potential
ready to burst forth and proliferate
instinctively trumpeting joie de vivre.

Sensational show stopping, eye catching
breathtaking... parade of sights and sounds
await buzzfeeding eyes and ears
about six weeks hence,
within mine home box office
here at Highland Manor apartments
quite affordable rent
allows, enables and provides
radiant quiescence, preponderant observance,
nonresistant magnificence, jubilant innocence,
exuberant deliverance,
concurrent buoyant abundance.

Accordingly and allegedly other than
meteorologists plenti schooled
ascertaining onset of temperate air
more particularly otter den non humans
unassumingly (ferreted out), who bear
the tidings, when that season

of rebirth dawns with crystal clear
blue skies, and terrain where deer
and antelope eagerly play without despair
purportedly realized, reassured, recounted...drear
re: days vamoosed foretold by
Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day

February second - requires one
with acute hearing to ****, and ear
turnips tickling the nose nostrils
delicate hairs (instagram ideal outlook) subtly,
markedly, lively..., yet gently flair
soon harkening shrieks

of delightful analogous funfair
no stranger to Renaissance Faire
of pitch perfect gamesomeness
will seem as... otherworldly pleasant
ah heaven sent giftware,
where all creatures great and small

sing psalms, upon arrival when hardware
trappings of winter shucked witnessing
unrolled welcome Scottish mat so hare
and tortoise can race,
cuz vernal equinox, sports a linkedin
improvisational, ebulliently

educational, cerebral, audiological...
twittering melange I will hear,
and grateful no defect doth impair
ability to revel silence, slake, soak...
insatiable thirst even prodding junketeer,
panhandler, vendor...
the last named,
perhaps selling kitchenware
knicknacks, keepsakes...
to hippies (think yours truly)
with long wavy hair
interwoven with Kahila
Garden Lily, Laurel, Maidenhair...
profusion of sensual delight
brings Mother Earth near,
the body, mind, and soul

espying frolicsome **** sapiens
donned with minimal outerwear
infusing all living things
common native plants and animals
in conjunction with resident outlier
particularly those pining
to answer call of the wild overdare
ring and bee zee lee court'n prepare

ring to beget young as
singular requisite quintessential profiteer
fluttering, instagramming emoji,
sans shutterfly puppeteer
as audience visually already reddit
regarding acting entire scenes,

viz Biblical Genesis answering prayer
particularly if gnostic, heterodox, queer...,
finally relieved, sans polar vortex
albeit somewhat rare
atmospheric phenomena, how ideal
if said rabid Jack Frost

would sink icy bite - part
and parcel green gang
at much more favorably time reappear
during oppressive heat spell during
sweltering triple digits temperature
summer re: time of year.

and let yours truly not forget emasculation
that prickly emotional immobilization
whereby these lovely bones
subject courtesy senescence
upon cremation reduced to obliteration.

Inching closer to mortality
linkedin with concomitant
subtle deterioration of body electric
finds yours truly (me)
speculating what happens
to corporeal essence
when sprawled out on death bed
able, eager, ready, and willing
to give up the ghost.

Resultant baby boomer saddled
with unbridled tumultuousness stirrup
(thus his need to pony up)
with delayed emotional, mental,
physical, and spiritual development
necessitating self advocacy
at present stage of mine existence,
especially where crisis brews,
concerning fruit flies
(Drosophila melanogaster)
called apartment unit b44 their home turf.

These pesky, itsy bitsy
teeny weeny, blimey insects
hold Guiness Book
of World Records
to bring about infestation
faster than you can say
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
within our living quarters.

An adult female fruit fly
can lay up to 2,000 eggs
on the surface of anything
moist and rotting.

Within 30 hours,
tiny maggots hatch and start
to eat decayed food.

Within 2 days, they attain adulthood
grown up and ready to mate, too.

While that transition
may seem quick,
a fruit fly only lives 8 to 15 days.

Run in with management
finds innate susceptibility
with anxiety skyrocketing,
cuz umpteen instances
called out about pestiferous critters
supposedly being out of compliance
when aforementioned issue
necessitated exterminator technician
(on quite a few occasions),
unbeknownst to us until
then warden Jackie Geiger
summoned us into the principal's office,
we got pleasantly informed
suddenly finds yours truly and the missus
in violation of rental contract.

Agitation swirls (think F/EF5 tornado)
viciously storming inside me psyche
analogous to whirling dervish
wreaking psychological havoc.

Resultant outcome with threat of eviction,
triggered a slew of physiological symptoms;  
I experience full blown panic attack,
whereby irritable bowel syndrome
kickstarted insync with palmar hyperhidrosis
psychologically run me ragged.

Linkedin and in tandem with current stress
(worse case scenario being homeless)
compounded by tsunami courtesy
severe mental health issues
stifled healthy growth of
body, mind, and spirit triage.

Internalized emotions wrought
quotidian psychological oppression
retrospective reflection courtesy
20/20 hindsight reveals absolute zero
positive natural development of
body, mind, and spirit
extreme cerebral agitation,
and social withdrawal compromised
(during metamorphosis to manhood)
kickstarting and jumpstarting prepubescence
quashing, sabotaging, upending, wrenching
maturation, education, and socialization

every year since being
born free and clear of obvious defects
minus alien aberration, Russian collusion...,
or basket of deplorable dysfunction
crooked Hillary accusation,
and submucous cleft palate
inducing severe nasality
fraught with arduous speaking difficulty
coping, fraternizing, integrating
within ordinary circumstances
alienated, defied, horrified,
mortified, scared, and (frankly) zapped

yours truly, albeit analogous
experiencing ferocious, hellacious, torturous...
suffering predicated on suppressing
and/or repressing moderate slights
inflicted upon withdrawn younger self,
who lacked adroit, deft, heft...
coping with typical situations
subsequently aggravating,
exacerbating, jinxing...
to cultivate, generate,
liberate locked potential
hypothesized, premised, yoked

infantile grievous inconsolable crying
unsolved behavioral mystery
venting only for my "mommy dearest,"
would utter (this from hearsay)
exhibiting extreme aversion
if other than thee birth mother
comforted, cradled, cocooned...,
an extremely reticent individual
buckling as strapping bullies
relentlessly belted jibed, taunted...
said teasing begat intimidation
(oft times mentioned in other poems)

scrawny kid (me) cowed, fawned, irked,
nonetheless I remained passive against
blistering, hectoring, teasing,
which apothegm turning other cheek
avoided getting smashed pumpkin face
courtesy subservient stance
devotional acquiescence help me dog pose
prayer temporarily answered
harboring entire being
ten thousand feet beneath
avast sea of dejection
time and again repeated

alas crass harassment
absorbed into nucleus of every cell
anchored barnacle encrusted tenuous pride
in short shrift
brewing, abjection, dejection, humiliation...
"NOT FAKE" misery
inducing suicidal ideation
(and actual attempt
courtesy anorexia nervosa)
spurring serious delineation
allowing, enabling, proffering
permanent salvation uber vacation
to give lyft among livingsocial
years later overlaid
earthshaking starry eyed son
fault finding fundamentally
misbehavior gifted from
those I called mother and father.

Above title attests how mine mundane mein kampf
insync as a veritable clogged drain oh:
flush with adventure overflowing excrement
er... rather excitement.

Apt aforementioned accurate personal description
believe me not, but urination
and defecation née emergency evacuation
triggered (reasonably rhyming) inspiration
culmination of requisite time
sitting atop porcelain goddess
devoid of hesitation and trepidation
herewith follows mine poetic ululation
hoop fully invites veneration .

Ever since garden variety generic guy
long since experienced being little boy
mean kids constantly teased and bullied me
on account yours truly being small fry
barely invisible to naked eye
bullied (most my entire boyhood)
as scapegoat, I did decry
pleading lame feeble alibi,

especially when punks
threw suckerpunch witnessing,
yours truly feigned falling
upon wounded knobby knee
to avoid me countenance being pummeled
courtesy knuckle sandwich
they threatened to apply.

One puny socially verily withdrawn lad
no surprise experienced suicidal ideation
throughout public school even as undergrad
never wagon figurative tail when fired
from one after another workstation.

Hence metaphorically hermetically sealed self
against incessant beastie boys squirreled away
amidst imaginative escapes courtesy bookshelf
isolates myself, viz remaining figuratively at bay
interestingly enough petrified livingsocial whereby
flesh and bone closely resembled hardened clay

hashtagged Matthew Scott Harris as pipsqueak
deadset to halt physical maturation without delay
anorexia nervosa (modus operandi) did buzzfeed
starved and emaciated lovely bones as main entree
unbeknownst then, but clear as a bell now
emotional state of parents unspooled and didst fray
father and mother aghast their pallor went ashen gray

grim reaper wielding large scythe intimating hooray
approximately half dozen years later
both parents relentlessly vilified verbally hammered
and especially didst inveigh
against their sole singular son
born thirteenth of January
hooded think those folks
who begot me more cruel fate
then being lynched courtesy triple "K."

Gambone builders bought property razed demesne
to escape vitriolic wrath atop roof at Glen Elm, I lay
nevertheless indelible memories emotional reprieve
spiritual succor delivered upon many a bygone May
when heat radiating off shingles served newgateway
passing time and wishing myself far as Norway
or even time traveling
back Catskills circa Borscht Belt,
also known as Jewish Alps oy vey.

Yours truly risk averse
which characteristic,
I declare constitutes curse
thus isolation found me sprawled out
upon wuthering heights
against regular diet of diatribes
delivered carte blanche
with expletive filled verse
toward solitary son ill fate
receiving nasty brutal abuse
considered dying far less worse.

Precious minutes and hours atop
seven gabled hideaway blithely did elapse
me gingerly scuttling out attic window
though agoraphobic and loathe to drop
distance and no longer courting death
no matter concluding life (during
early/mid twenties) total flop
merely wishing rage against
male offspring would stop.

Hurtful words yelled after papa
guzzled bottles of vermouth
(not really, I admittedly prevaricate)
courtesy late father and mother
resoundingly, severely, terrifyingly,
wickedly, violently uncouth
subjected imbalanced earthling
(yours truly - me)
think venomous metaphorical
****** blackened barbs,
viz inconveniently grossly, egregiously

one after another hurtful
figurative daggers antithesis of truth,
albeit synopsis regarding
second born (middle child - sole son)
begat courtesy Harriet and Boyce
upon their psychologically harried
flesh out the womb of young mother
(both parents now long since deceased)
now said heir long in the tooth
wordsmith here wonders why forsooth
he tolerated torturous abuse.

Hard knocks Methacton school alum
ofttimes finds ruining his fate
while squarely planted on me ***
nevertheless felt rightly triangulated
flashed mobbed by disheveled and unshaven,
foo fighting beastie boys
whereby their gray stubble encrusted
wayward synonymous days old crumb -

after getting wolfed (re: gang lions)
as delectable entitled treat
buttered fingers drubbing upon tabletop
analogous to playing a drum
oy vey, yours truly cannot believe
he ate the whole thing -
thus feeling bloated and glum
giving way (rather succumbing)
to Sir Isaac Newton's
first law of motion first law
a body at rest stays oh so ** hum
inclined to remain supine
and comfortably numb
able, eager, and ready (reddit)
to down tumblr full of ***
argh go sum... my poor tum.

ALDI GIANT supermarkets
(within small radius of miles
from me Schwenksville, Penna abode)
sell delicious delectable treat
goading, inspiring, and spurring me
to craft poem essentially
patronizing manufacturer,
whose skilled food technicians
engineered absolute winning dessert

courtesy their natural born talent
schooled (most likely at culinary institute)
possibly supplemented insync
with advanced degrees
at other institutions of higher learning
after various and sundry
trials and error with plus or minus
marginal limits of tolerance
concocting mouthwatering secret recipe.

Lemme use hypothetical situation
to accent chew ate,
how alluded dessert tastes great,
especially when rumble in tumbly
clamors for glorious goody
regarding appetite to satiate
unfortunately circumstances
force your truly to wait.

If (the following
constitutes far fetched scenario)
stranded on a desert island,
I after falling to Earth
when parachute fails to open,
weighed down by an excess of
Daiya vegan non dairy cheesecakes,
would finagle an empty pie tin
flashing aluminum dish higgledy piggledy
to signal an oinking porcine SOS
think jeepers creepers
knowing my luck being abducted
by an alien cannibalistic, gnostic,
narcissistic life forms,
who quickly abandoned me

subsequently left to my own devices,
(where you dear reader
would discover one humbug),
I would be forced to scrounge around
rubbing two sticks together
to create warmth
plus distilling oils -
derived from edible herbaceous plants,
whence I would *******
(not prematurely) - olé
to sauté said collard greens
with wild mushrooms.

I (accompanied by missus)
drove to bed bath and beyond
Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania
off Chemical Road location for naught.

After arriving
at said destination alas and alack
with intent to purchase:
ZeroWater®
10-Cup Ready Pour™ Pitcher - $17.50
and ZeroWater®

4-Pack Replacement Filters - $39.99
(we discovered aforementioned store shuttered)
both of us essentially undertook round trip
to Schwenksville and back
without rhyme nor reason.

Subsequently, an idea dawned
(came to mind) to craft a poem
with immediate insight
since yours truly likes to write.

Our eldest daughter, an engineering ace,
(who lives in Oakland, California,
and conveniently employed to chase
the buck courtesy remote technology
within walls of her dwelling place
by B-corp) frequently politely reminds us

to purchase environmentally friendly product
to help sustain earthly creatures
besides human race
who about bajillion years from now
will vanish without a trace.

She nsync with youngest offspring,
(a lovely lass awaiting
her prince charming
ah...if only her fantasy
to marry available bachelor
singer constituting the
British band One Direction, -
would be dream come true)

insync with alluded to first born
unwittingly contribute immense happiness,
whereby meaning of life,
liberty and pursuit of happiness
doth resonate
despite both adorable girls,
(an unbiased opinion courtesy their papa)
in Oakland, California
and Bend, Oregon respectively.

Eco-friendly ethics
informed courtesy older sister eons ago,
she (Amelie Beth) hypersensitivity,
a contemplative introverted bro
who as a socially withdrawn boy
rather puny and scrawny body
standing with knobby knees
unknowingly foretold skeletal escrow,

viz arms akimbo point each elbow
perpendicular while moving to and fro
geeky and nerdy
improvisational dance intro
exhibiting nonconformist Judeo
spontaneous boyish schtick
just before onset anorexia nervosa manifesto.

Ah... nothing more enjoyable
than acidic gastric fluid (bile)
flowing backward into esophagus,
resulting in heartburn, meanwhile
disrupting pleasant dreams,
which phenomena also known as
gastroesophageal reflux (GER)
found me discombobulated
and swiftly tailored into harried style.

Unsure how successful literary endeavor
crafting reasonably rhyming poem;
actually the following
written a couple years ago
with only slight modification
regarding aforementioned topic
yielding moderately satisfactory
(née middling) result.

While deeply asleep
scant minutes before dawn's early light
burning sensation within deep
tracts of throat did creep,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
(upchuck, toss my cookies, regurgitate...)
insync on par to set Guiness Book
of world records to leap
analogous to lemur

at lightspeed into bathroom,
(these lovely bones
ne'er made jaunt to water closet
but collapsed in a heap -
injuring right hand in the process)
nevertheless, I made little
on the contrary no bowed peep,
but immediately stood
bolt upright stock still
after crumbling to the floor
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.

Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within mine body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
retroperistalsis or antiperistalsis
found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon argh
ga you ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before simmering

upper gastrointestinal lining
courtesy mouthfuls of bottled water
allowed, enabled, and provided satiation
sudden unquenchable thirst relieved
resultant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fiery phenomena
- shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
kitty packet of muscle and bone aft

times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, (think nanobot size)
where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court.

No reason for inclusion of above verse,
(previous ten lines), I just wanted
to incorporate said phrases, tip peer
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the more he learns, which prompts me to

posit emphatically that ignorance
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
**** sapiens unfetter himself with

cumulative knowledge without reek
horse (neigh) to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or tamping down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?

signaled one hundred seconds to midnight

A couple years ago
similarly titled poem I did write,
yet looms as harbinger unless
**** sapiens can unite
one non Yiddish speaking
Ongematert wishing ye
fare thee well tonight
before betokening apocalyptic sight
'course one must go about
her/his business - right?

Rhetorical question - yet
impossible mission quite
challenging, where one
brother grimm ponders plight
Cosmofunnel favorite fan
Katina Borgersen "****"
our acquaintanceship dissolved
(think - snapped fingers) outright
regardless, whether...
perchance we ever
cross paths long daze

journey into night
met under virtual reality moonlight
ah... the mere awareness
of her existence
metaphorically found modest, mercurial
mellow male within limelight
oy vey admittedly one
rusty Ongepatshket knight
fumbling in the dark with
his unreliable sputtering jacklight
hooping aforesaid gal whose eyes alight

upon mine genuine words doth newt
**** sitter me laughable, nor impolite,
yet accept hard reality to highlight
and/or _ underscore delight
full dame online - each of us,
an infinitesimal jot of granulite
within vast cosmos given finite
minuscule time to excite
our senses trending utmost delight
during brief unique
deoxynucleic chromosomal copyright

til death do us part,
whether natural demise
or... huge mushroom
clouds radioactive blight
unimaginable nightmarish scenario
impossible mission to close third eye blind
webbed global haunting spectacle
mortal creatures linkedin to ill fate
including yours truly,
a generic, garden variety
hermetically sealed cell bit anchorite.

Uneasiness far greater
to confront atomic augury
than pernicious penury
which ceases within eyeblink
far more serious than perjury
nonetheless afflicting me
with psychological injury.

Personal finances pitted
me deep in hock
into red room zone,
shining thru the mist
story, yes I experience
quite a shell shock,
to absorb inconvenient truth
great swaths of Gaia
analogous to dead zone,

nevertheless, now finds yours
truly poorest, oldest, and nerdiest
curmudgeon goofy "kid"
on the chopping block
within Lake Wobegon
hard space and third rock
from sun as inevitable doom
inches closer as each second elapses  
insync with inaudible tick tock.

Often these days
(early May 2021)
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share one son,
cuz seventeen years after mother succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness.

I still reckon how yours truly
shrugged off proffering
tender loving care
when grim reaper in close proximity
to mama supine and nearly lifeless
within whose womb,
this sole son born,
thus shouldered with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
(when all mine troubles
moost definitely not far away)
last remaining grains sands of time.

Imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber
just prior when coroner decrees death,
yet an opportunity prevailed

wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
of she begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
(thwarting heroic measures)
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
racked once fitness
and health conscious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,

which malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately seventy years past),
whose flirtatious demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,
nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,

not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly cold stone body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited by mama)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partial listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
plus his family resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection

regarding once young bride,
(who smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),
cuz he (yours truly overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated at 324 Level Road.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented (albeit verbally)
yours truly, upon mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations greatly exacerbating

emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained
down upon these
(considerably mooch younger) lovely bones
whose anger (mine) smoldered

linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within every
holy (Molly Q. L.) molecule

within mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with
both non twisted sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey

and the younger staked out
modest home within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently scythe soon
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house housing our mutual friend,
I now conclude.

Often these days
(closing in on the eighth
anniversary of eighth orbit
around mister sun),
the following genuine sentiment
Matthew Scott Harris
doth wish to share
how one and only son,
remembers his mother
cuz about eighteen years
after mother succumbed
courtesy of terminal illness
he updates yearly a poem initially crafted
when she passed away.

I still reckon eyes how yours truly
analogous to Atlas -
shrugged off proffering
tender loving care
within whose womb,
one zygote underwent gestation
this sole male offspring born,
thus subsequently after her demise,
yours truly shouldered himself with self scorn.

He clearly recounts
as if her death occurred yesterday...,
when all mine troubles
(emotional, financial, and physical)
moost definitely
no more farther away
then present moment.

Tempus fugit popular worded couplet
or imagine an hourglass
where fine granules
analogous to last remaining
grains representing sands of time
trickle from one to another
(upper to lower) bulbed chamber
just prior when coroner decreed death,
yet an opportunity prevailed,

wherein said self (me) chose
NOT to stand vigil at deathbed
of she who begat
an older and younger daughter
(mine sibling sisters).

Last breath(s) expelled while mama
tethered to machines,
one or more helped diminish
agonizing, depressing, and writhing
pain and discomfort
figuratively and literally
wracked and pinioned once fitness
and health conscious, flirtatious
industrious, tenacious, and vivacious body,
dinged by a former carcinoma

eradicated courtesy regimen of
chemotherapy and radiation,
which latter malignant terminal illness
(no joke) riddled a former robust
Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor
(think approximately sixty eight years past),
whose coy and coquettish demeanor
instantaneously caught fancy of handsome
twenty something papa at his prime.

Before rigor mortis quickly
stole precious lifeblood, and
final minutes ticked away until
countdown to... realm
of absent consciousness
scant moments before subtle transition
slipped our beloved mother
out of misery (a veritable battleground)
where she did silently rage into deadzone...,
neither final adieu, caress, grief...,
nor poem written...
never communicated to deceased,

not an iota of sorrowful lament
bequeathed, prevailed, relinquished...
over lifeless body (mommy dearest)
relegated limp suddenly cold stone body,
where morgue aged corpse
kept in cold storage
(despite aversion to frigid air
exhibited when mama alive)
preparatory to cremation process.

Rather... suppressed resentment
exhibited itself at 1148 Greentree Lane
(partial listed abode -
Matthew Scott Harris,
where family of mine then resided)
by mister recalcitrant,
felt ambivalent carte blanche blasé affection

regarding once young bride,
(who metaphorically
smothered cingular heir insync
with dada i.e. Boyce Brandon Harris),
cuz he (yours truly) overstayed
livingsocial under same roof as parents,
which happenstance situated
at me boyhood home
once located upon
six plus wooded acres;
324 Level Road
constituted the whittled down
once sprawling Leiper Estate,
which encompassed about
one hundred plus acre wood
home to Winnie the Pooh.

Both thee aforementioned
supposed biological guardians
railed, screamed, tormented
(albeit verbally traumatized)
yours truly, upon attaining
mine eighteenth birthday,
when great expectations greatly exacerbating

emotionally hard times,
which ill suited poet de jure
experienced, brickbats rained
akin to fountainhead spewing
painful pelting piercing
poisonous pummels
down upon these
(considerably mooch younger) lovely bones,
whose anger (mine) smoldered

linkedin to constant epithets of expletives
out the mouths of those who begat me,
subsequently their livid with rage
tsunami festered within me
every holy moly molecule.

Mine atomized corporeal being
manifesting itself as deprivation
to embrace dear mama
attended at hospital with
both my non twisted sisters;
one hailed from Woodbury, New Jersey

and the younger staked out
modest digs within Bend, Oregon,
meanwhile thee grim reaper
did patiently soon scythe
heading back to his old curiosity shop,
a rather bleak house, I now conclude.

twenty three years ago
today February 4th, 2022
begat about nine months prior,
approximately late April/early May 1998,
she exited thru fully dilated ******
10 centimeters or just under 4 inches
immediately cherished as a precious gift
her radiant pink flesh did healthily glow
despite developmental delay
observed during babyhood stage,

blessed timely intervention
hallelujah to countless social services
helped bring her up to speed
and in accordance with average statistics
pertaining to population of girls
at various ages of her life
most vital metrics indicated she did grow,
and matured into an attractive young lady
now mindful (courtesy common sense
and valuable life lessons)

said offspring quite aware the necessity
to comply with status quo
unlike this nonestablishmentarian papa,
who frittered away priceless time show
wing measly abysmal track records
regarding academic and employment, though
not necessarily criminal, I barely lived
analogously solely placing big toe
within streaming rush of opportunities
upon reflection, I experience woe.

Thank you immeasurably youngest daughter
valuable Shayna Punim
beloved gifted progeny bold
coaching, daring, encouraging... herself
whether the weather hot or cold
to take positive growth risks
you count as more precious
than fine spun gold
enhancing mein kampf,
whose absence warrants
birth mama or papa to hold
our darling offspring,

when she clamors for attention,
yet prohibitive physical distance
renders impossible mission
to proffer sought after nurturing,
hence the best attempt to lyft
your spirits (if sagging)
finds me driving in one direction
across information superhighway insync with
electronic uber global positioning satellite
merely wishing ye happy birthday
now intent to email thee told.

YOU GO GIRL!

Hard knocks Methacton school alum
ofttimes finds ruing his fate
while squarely planted on me ***
disheveled and unshaven,
whereby gray stubble encrusted
with wayward synonymous days old crumb -

after wolfing delectable entitled treat
buttered fingers drubbing upon tabletop
analogous to playing a drum
oy vey, yours truly cannot believe
he ate the whole thing -
argh... my poor tum.

ALDI GIANT supermarkets
(within small radius of miles
from me Schwenksville, Penna abode)
sell delicious delectable treat
goading, inspiring, and spurring me
to craft poem essentially
patronizing manufacturer,
whose skilled food technicians
engineered absolute winning dessert

courtesy their natural born talent
schooled (most likely at culinary institute)
possibly supplemented insync
with advanced degrees
at other institutions of higher learning
after various and sundry
trials and error
concocting mouthwatering secret recipe.

Lemme use hypothetical situation
to accent chew ate,
how alluded dessert tastes great,
especially when rumble in tumbly
clamors for glorious goody
regarding appetite to satiate
unfortunately circumstances
force your truly to wait.

If (the following
constitutes far fetched scenario)
stranded on a desert island,
I after falling to Earth
when parachute fails to open,
weighed down by an excess of
Daiya vegan non dairy cheesecakes,
would finagle an empty pie tin
to signal an SOS.

If left to my own devices,
(where you dear reader
would discover one humbug),
I would be forced to scrounge around
rubbing two sticks together
to create warmth
plus distilling oils -
derived from edible herbaceous plants,
whence I would *******
(not prematurely) - olé
to sauté said greens with wild mushrooms.