Why?
To escape livingsocial,
and negate mine birth
figuratively, knowingly,
and precariously,
I nightmarishly perch
teeter tottering atop - dearth
of financial safety net,
where profuse
hemorrhaging, viz bankruptcy,
bloodshot eyes see red behind
eight ball violently, helplessly
then effortlessly lurch,
analogous to tight rope walker,
(envision the Great Wallenda)
balanced above scalding,
seething, and volcanic, magmatic,
and basaltic lava spewing,
qua global sized hearth,
why what pray
tell wood seem
tubby an enormous googling search
bar, a bajillion miles
into abyss, (Penney's
on the dollar) Wool Worth
investigating resigning self
tug go deep into the
bowels of planet Earth,
cruel fate, would temptingly
find me permanently
relieved of ******, legal tender,
(emotional, and
many another) woe
willingly surrendering, pirouetting,
and cartwheeling self free falling,
asper in toto
Leonardo DaVinci's
The Vitruvian Man
anatomical perfect
sketch doth show
(absent parachute), while row
tete ting away performing
Queen like aerial bebop ping
amidst thermal current status quo
spinning (analogous pro
vocation) to infamous
colorful pinwheel lo'
oft appearing on Macbook know
wing mischievous gremlins glow
with delight magnified
screen no...no...no,
OH, not on external Lenovo...
ARGH more dough
aye haint got to blow,
mine absence invariably,
sans minimal impact,
(Matthew Scott Harris)
his present existence,
would be high jacked
triggering oodles
of noodles, re: guarding
China Syndrome, where
fortune cookie message
presages annihilation pact,
where yours truly feels
like...chop suey racked
amid smoldering
humungous caldera,
which generates
unstoppable, laudable,
and irreversible death cab
for cutie sound track
accompanies in concert
my plummet from
summit on high,
which would give
poor Humpty Dumpty,
a run for his egg drop
soupy sailing money,
thus subsequently
criss cross Sir Wren door
ring me akin
to quasi smashing pumpkins glop
unless, while streaming
thru ethereal medium
(zero AmPeRe) hiphop.
