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Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.reiteration... em.. you're not internet providers... are you?! the best you'll ever be, is, software *******... you're about as invested in hardware, as the mafia is invigorated by mainstream politics...******* wankers... you what?! huh?! censorship?! who's supplying you with the copper wires?! you?! ha ha ha ha! how about getting leg ***** by a mongrel tongue... and considering your type of companies, as, serious, "mediators"... no hardware... just a software monopoly... ******* **** wasps! you almost want to cannibalize their presence! like... ever taste bone marrow? these "companies"... are teasing a taste of bone marrow! i want to eat something... these, companies, forgot, that, they're, not, service, providers! d'uh! and they're making the dicta?! inch copper **** making all the rules... what rules?! they don't make the rules... they're not hardware enforcers! they block my presence, i subsequently return to over-exemplifying using the scissors, counter the computer! yeah?!

em...
but you're not BT...
British Telecommunications?
the hell is up with these
software nuggets?!
how can google,
facebook,
youtube, ban, someone...
when they pay...
for their hardware provider?
did, said companies,
pay, for the copper wires?!
i'm pretty sure the answer is
no...
    unless you've not been banned
by authentic internet providers,
but, rather,
banned by content creation
mediums?!
       **** 'em!
           **** 'em silly!
         they do not actually
own access to internet
provision, i.e. ACCESS...
they do not own
the armory
of copper wiring....
that connects the dots...
*******!
BT or SKY or ******
pulls the plug,
you're all out!
             you get the
differential "bias" against
the format of software
contra hardware?
no?
            there are,
internet, providers...
there is the hardware of
occupational hardware user basis...
these companies...
censoring...
have a software stature,
without a hardware status...
   want to rephrase the thesaurus
to concern yourself
with legislative phraseology?
      really?
     me? can't be bothered...
do it yourself,
VEGAN dietary requirements
and... whatever.
but you can't deny someone
content provision...
when they're paying for
an internet access...
these software companies
do not have to answer
to governments...
they have to answer
to hardware providers...
   internet access deposits /
access points...
            not governments...
hardware instigators...
    oh, really?
    software censorship?
   if there's no one using
the hardware?!
              good luck...
and a goof ball speeding!

these companies, who are exercising
"depth",
of the parameters of conscription
of legit consent?
   they have this amnesia...
this amnesia...
of...
   not being hardware utilities...
i.e.?
   a comic book...
without the printing press...
   savvy?
             now i'm mowing down
eyed
    claustrophobic eyed -
   horses running,
with shutters on their eyes
for the added advantage
of tunnel vision...
   that Bane scene equivalent...
    with the quote -
  crashing this plane...

"who" are these companies
to dictate,
"correct" internet usage?
they're not internet providers...
to begin with...
   if... a company like SKY...
or BT... or ******...
obstructed internet access
of a person?
  i'd be nodding...
    in a coherent access of
agreement...
    but...
      these websites are not
hardware, they're software...
see the difference?
they're not internet providers...
they're pixel blank bulk anticipating
canvases...

unless there's something
wrong with the original idea,
of an un- investigated
genesis of a pixel blank?!
     can i make this an issue
with your, internet provider?
i don't like you excluding
the content of the content
that is a blank pixel anticipatory
excavation wait...
   sorry...
  
   i don't like you miscarrying my
payment of internet access...
having censored interactive outlet
canvases...
   i pay for one... i pay for all...
   can you please pay
the proper amount of
compensation to the hardware
companies that provide
universal internet access to
the full spectrum of internet users?!

namely?
BT... SKY... ******?
yes?!
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Dear vile man

Gaveth disease to us
From thy labs,
Created poison crunch
Mustard gas

Gaveth robotic telecommunications
To say to me
Its for thine own good!!!!

How distant thou hast made others from me!!!

Thine slimed beast!!!

As others hast made machine's their creator
As I'm the lonesome seeking and feeling *****!!

Guess I have some human in me after all!!
Francie Lynch Aug 2015
Trying to spread the word?
Reach as many as possible?
Get your point across?
The twentieth century
Has provided the means
With
Telecommunications
Telstar
Telegraph (really the 19thc)
Telegram
Telephone
Television
Telethons
And coming soon,
Teleporting.
And yet,
With all our tele-technology,
If you really want world-wide attention,
Tell-a-friend
A secret.
Telstar: First communication satelites.
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
Alexander you gave us a bell my friend.
Miles of smiles sent down a wire.
Wires crossed.
Maybe a cable!
Given the gift of speech.
Unless of course,
we're ignorant.

Cat got your tongue.
Well maybe.
Mail electric..
Are friends electric.
Who is in charge.

A brain that thinks.
This flaming situation stinks.
She sweet child.
Needs not.
Not needy at all.
That's her not him.
She needs none but words.

A scoundrel and blaggart.
Lol
Not hard as nails, has a heart!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Unsecured mind-set lashes its core, choosing to ally itself to that of no concern or thought. All sequence we shall herald as noble backlash. Blame shall rest with death of the innocent, for this is where excuse can be rectified Or rather that of fraudulent justification laid before another’s feet.

Insight to rise as we rise to insight, no notice shall be given and no action shall not be undertaken. Vandalisms recruitment takes it course. Internet conscription courses silently through hardy flex. Telecommunications providers enlisted to contrive location as we plan Google’s map attack.

The aim is that of procurement, not for freedom or righteousness, rather that of avarice and self contentment. We shall shop till we drop this eve and at much better than discounted prices. Personal retributions shall also conceal themselves beneath this direst of banner.

Filthy alignments will almost with abandonment unite in evil cohesion. Mass attack at fragmented locations will oppress any and all endeavours to quell this foulest of foul. He who hide his face away is free to loot another day, this seems the lyrical trend that thief and sinner does take this night .

Untold expectance by unlawful propagator is of a world that owes, favours him above others. He feels righteous that he should prevail in this life before his fellow man. It is of no concern to him that others may have more worthy an approach. It matters not what they may suffer.

If for no other reason to doubt he who professes to have nothing, to be cast out by the state and therefore be free to invoke retribution, why should he with nought, cast dereliction in his own manor? Why destroy what you have not got? Why condemn yourself to live in an unliveable state?

Such misdemeanour unto ones self is surely call for psychiatric assessment and asylums involvement? Here now stands a creature pursed to explicate erroneous act for appropriate content and expect audience to quell their disgust and rapturously give applause. I think not.

For not only did thievery portray itself on our streets this and other nights that followed, also violence, arson and ****** were carried along with it, like a leaf in the wind. Families lost what they had so long worked and strived to gain, watching helplessly as combustion condemned their habitat to broken ash.

****** drew its breath on more than a single occasion. Is this the result of political unrest, that is what they would want us to pronounce, to show reason that this is against the masses, such excuse may then be strewn as a just intention.

This is not the reality though in this case it is a the likely truth that rat endeavoured to crawl above ground and spread its pox amongst us, infecting devastation on good peoples lives as it did in centuries past.
17th  September 2011
Joining forces to give you yet fewer options when in the realm of Telecommunications!
Inspired by some mail I received earlier today.
1.*  Talk about it too loudly or to the wrong person.
If you tell one person, don't assume you've just told ten.
Although it is nice to think that everyone can keep a thing hush-hush, *people like to ******* talk
.

2. Don't be discreet or otherwise use discretion when discussing it.
This is especially optional in public or with telecommunications such as phone and internet.

3. Act paranoid around authority
Act like everyone knows you're doing something "wrong".

4. Don't cover your tracks.
Or, if you do, do so poorly so as to let someone catch on to the secrecy with minimal effort.

If you do these things,
the cat will surly be out of the bag before long.
What I truly miss
Began with innocent interrogation
Prodding at pasts
Emptying diction into enticing eyes and ears by the entrance
We were both educating each other
Almost until dawn
When dusk dusted our sheets
Separated, but connected
By telecommunications
As we lay and discuss lamentations and laughter

I never got tired
Of you
Of your secret science that seduced my senses
So, when autumnal apples approached ground
As common as students with Cambridge courses,
I found out that the law of falling
Doesn't sound as appealing
But I managed to gravitate towards you
Universally, there's a formula for that.
I feel things never stopped, but were always in motion.



Ifeanyichuku N. Okoro II © 2023
It's not rocket science.
Breathes sigh of relief
(like toe tilly gnarly mon)
footing expenses good grief.

Onus encompassing marital
responsibilities with (Holy Scott)
Matt man locked dread
precariously rested squarely and unfairly
upon mine figurative lead

pencil necked geek hirsute head,
and bony shoulders, that said
lemme communicate with modesty
and frankly earnest Sesame Street cred

hoop fully words understandable
meant tubby easily interpreted and read
lookout for courtesy double entendres
signalling where ***** wed
did himself, yet careful to tread,

no faster than sixty nine as he sped
into forbidden, verboten two lipped arrid
hot zone bubbling volcanic oasis
plunging his swollen jughead
suffocating till gratefully dead.

Reroute threaded needle gaining nascent
ability to manage independent living,
whereby counterpart availed
her pheromone scent
spurring feeling heightened testosterone,
within instantaneous moment

thus took tactile apprenticeship
receiving mail order bride thru
correspondence course sent,
I also donned role of special ops agent
provocateur, a hardened gent
fluke how I became

process of elimination chosen incumbent
learned, familiarized, adept...
grudgingly accepted covenant
to pay affordable low income rent,
plus manage other monthly bills due, i.e.
water, telecommunications insurance

(automobile and renters), and electric -
companies (Aqua Pennsylvania, Verizon,
Nationwide and Peco
respectively) with efficient
aplomb mastered (dub bate double)
art of being accommodating tenant.

Domestic chargé d'affaires
became mine bailiwick
dint of the missus being
disinclined and less quick
budgeting, hence I inadvertently
accepted lickity split,
subsequent obligation did

smoothly clack and click,
which minimized conflict
whereby we shared equal intrinsic
reciprocity complicity, culpability
then at playtime, thee enigmatic
one whipped out adult toys
stashed in the attic.

Altercations impossible to avoid,
'specially when unemployed
(think Rob zombie humanoid)
additionally, I lacked emotionally unalloyed

communication cues, nearly destroyed
romance, cuz only recourse re: primal
non verbal, viz Braille
while disguised as android
amorousness I expressly enjoyed

satisfactorily papa bear
groaning courtesy steroid
launching petsmart aery mission
poised to strike no
matter mainly to void

i.e. unpacking heat prohibited,
one tony peppy trooper deployed,
but unexpectedly waylaid
understandably yours truly annoyed
unsheathed hot pistol manually toyed.

Admission, confession, decision firmly laid
down, I oft times insisted felt test ease made
purposeless seething hormonal secretion
triggered fountainhead sprayed

activated provocation upbraid
ding the then live in girlfriend
French kissing parlez vous
pledged troth plus
serving as milkmaid.
Thurtle Oct 2017
Crustacean
At the
Bus station

Frustration
Of a
Just Haitian

Castration
Of an
Alsatian

Internationalization
Of
Telecommunications

Worship
Of a
Satan
(alternately titled: impossible mission goes awry
probably mortal enemy cast spell binding jinx)

Both mental versus
physical tasks necessitate
laser sharp attentiveness
triggered within blinks
similarly on par when people toast
momentary instance utter silence

before more'n one
wine glass simultaneously clinks
cheering hurray, especially
if delicate circumstance
incorporates telecommunications downlinks
critical vital communique transmitted courtesy
think outlier (christened

Saint Matthew Scott Harris)
with acute instincts
held hostage between warp,
and woof fifth of dimension
far away beyond where
outer limits exhibits kinks

nsync with twilight zone
dwell alienated ratfinks
resembling authentic animated
Doctor Seuss characters
where one after another
third eye blind winks.

Lame excuse told cosmic speck (me)
sending yours truly on wild goose chase
an underhanded way to rub
inept feeble poetaster punster
out webbed wide world existence
purportedly great eats boasted
deep inside black hole pub

must make posthaste
to nearest galactic grubhub
mission control haint made no flub
boot deliberately thought
ineffectual doling out futile drub
cuz mister flibbertigibbet (me)
ostracized from highly selective club.

The aforementioned synopsis and
ultimate banishment cheered with big bang
decreed courtesy kangaroo court
constituting beastie boy gang
think star wars movie,
where farcical charges *******
offering accused two choices,
either to hang
suspended (think piñata) and beat

to (fictional) pulp
torturers obviously ignoring pang
of utter emasculation, but rather sang
a song of sixpence
while downing flasks of vintage tang
crafty entrepreneur William A. Mitchell in 1957
******* drinking vessels
resembling Chewbacca's oversize ****.
---------------------------------------------------
Lyrics­

Sing a Song of Sixpence
BY MOTHER GOOSE
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened
The birds began to sing—
Wasn't that a dainty dish
To set before the king?

The king was in the counting-house
Counting out his money,
The queen was in the parlor
Eating bread and honey,

The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes.
Along came a blackbird
And snipped off her nose.
Marsh shilling (walled herd)
Whitman man inside
expedited without fanfare
takes yours truly to
hot air wind Copeland
an effort to expunge grievous

llama ants that chide
this NON GMO, nonconformist,
gluten free... brand
heralding supreme storied
ancestry courtesy 23andme guide
me with enlightenment, whereby

family (dollar) tree did expand,
visual perception these myopic
(color blind) brown eyes espied
thank you very mooch beloved
eldest sister Amelie plus band
of relatives, whose voluntary efforts

made significant stride
rightfully abetted digital technology,
vis a vis FIOS or other broadband
telecommunications company
allowing, enabling, and
providing me to bestride,

hitherto yawning gaps formerly
blank slated information
mystifying this pokey cowhand
before he doth give up his ghost,
when succumbing to grim reaper
patiently scythe ying at bedside

(mine) no matter gravely ill,
but ecstatic to learn extensive
eye opening insight spanned
generations back from present time,
once again lion's share opened
shuttered Pandora's box and defied

successful neatly mapped
genealogy regarding direct
(day late dollar short) penniless
descent, nonetheless grand
thieving ish kabibble
**** pa linkedin

with figurative trailer load
of rolling hard rocks seconds
to spare before I died,
thankfully this *******
loo nut hick kick bajillion
got earful of anecdotes

analogous to gourmand
checking off sought after eateries,
(especially Indian restaurant in
Newtown, Pennsylvania) on
bucket list before downslide
into infinite abyss i.e.

farce hide scanned
din knave eon aged Swede schlemiel
constituting non "FAKE" mockery,
trumpeting parody travesty,
many golden opportunities I denied

self, now toothless
drooling, groveling, sniveling...,
woof fully poorly manned
existence, thus...in gloom,
I forever reside!
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2019
.nothing is going to fix this,
sure sure,
  you can either make a zukofsky
out of it, or an ezra pound...
no point of comparison beyond
these two,
you might as well forget
homer...
          because, that sort of ****...
needs to mature.


and i am out of place,
    i'm in england,
but i'm juxtaposing the feral
lands of eastern europe
where women have
a choice...
      either comply,
or be subjected to social
stigma,
       much akin to any small
community...
the old men ask the young
men: where's your girlfriend?!
the young men reply:
she's independent...
  there's absolutely zilch
i can do about that...
     i hardly think this
"concern" has been brewing
in my mind...
ever watch a blonde
    court-side
           at an NBA match?
well...
thanks to b.t.
   (british telecommunications)
i can't tune in into the premier
league matches...
       but if there's a sport
i enjoy... that's over across the "pond"
it's basketball...
well considering h'america is
more of an idea of a country
than anything currently available
that's organic...
   NHL and NBA...
          and when it comes
to baseball... n'ah...
   the lunacy of cricket beats it...
oh and for sure
   NFL can't compete with
rugby...
        i never understood
the "logic" of a one-throw
game policy,
    must feel like *******
into a ****
  with one ***** (runner)
able to squeeze past
the melee...
hawkeye to blade runner...
throw... catch...
touchdown...
  but the interruptions:
too many to count, put me off...
but a blonde court-side
at a basketball game...
    now there's looking
star-struck, there's looking
aghast,
there's daniel's *****
and there's the goliath...
   oh the jaw doesn't need
to drop...
   the eyes are already glittering...
well i'm also hardly
a didldo model...
   what would that look, like?
thank god the crazed monotheist
priest didn't get to me,
i knew the *******
was supposed to fulfill
some sort of function...
never thought it was
to, sit down on a toilet,
take a ****, take a ****,
and then ******* to some
                        fine art...
          well i had to write something!
this is only the interlude
piece of the "puzzle"
before i get really into it,
  before i drink enough to dumb
down and spew doodles...
and the whole itchy fingers
"thing"...
           so i made myself
the promise - write within
the time limit of a reader's capacity
to read it in reverse...
never revise...
    keep to the grammar and spelling...
and when i heard
that bukowski made frequent
spelling mistakes...
then...
         i sort of lost my respect
for him...
             it's not like i sit and,
  "ponder"... scheme...
                    as long as the punctuation
works...
then the "necessary" CAPITAL
lettering is... gone with the wind...
        then again...
just drinking,
    and... what? relaxing akin
to the will styron "conundrum"...
well...
   at least know when i hit
the mega-snooze button
                    and quasi-black-out...
which implies:
       pulled-pork and roast
tatties and some red cabbage
with chilli and coriander just did
their bit...
               as in:
          when it comes to poetics...
thinking is overrated...
and i know that the mainstream
has ****** "hurt feelings"...
but with this sort of ****...
you have to feel more
   and think, less...
              it's not mahjong solitaire
we're talking about,
it's the integrity of language...
sure...
   it's not a stephen king novel...
but like i said two days prior
to someone:
   i lack the imagination
to embrace a future...
              nope... can't see it...
not on a personal scrutiny
of wants...
                  there's only now...
and it's hardly a scenario
of "living in the past"...
sure, i "live" in the past
only because i don't think i did
anything wrong...
   unlike most people...
i like to remember the good
i've done, however pea sized puny...
and i don't have a problem
with that...
   but... "apparently"
a lot of people are so ashamed
of their past that the only thing
they're looking forward to is
a snippet of a future just
before their death...
                i like the past...
not because i live in it,
but because i have, lived in it...
   and that's one sure way
to converse with an Alzheimer's
condition...
         akin to:
last time i checked,
she picked out the engagement ring
herself...
  and she herself,
gave it back to me...
      and then all manner of crazy
**** happened...
'matt, matt! i'm hearing voices!
matt! matt! i'm pregnant!'
like i didn't visit her
after the break-up
and find her sleeping with her ex-,
so now, what?
                   i really want
to be that bitter spare-cog in
the machine of time...
                          i do...
   but something compels me to spew...
sure, drinking,
the "curse"...
          but for all the sedatives
in pharma-land...
    at least this one gives
me a sense of sanity, and focus...
  i'll cook the dog's *******
worth of a curry and a fox
   will come near my garden door...
and then i'll feed him
some left-over food,
bones, groats...
sauce yadda yadda...
       and i'll leave him like that
for a week...
   which gives me great satisfaction...
because it reminds me
of myself as a child,
    the only child...
       with an alsatian shepherd
for a sister
and a dobermann for a brother...
    ****... i still remember that
bitche's name... Bel-la...
   and she was beautiful...
   i'd go walking with my now now
dementia riddled grandfather
into the strawberry fields and
the forest and climb trees...
   and she'd be barking running
insane rounds around the tree
worried for me...
       (verbatim, not my words,
my grandfathers)...
                     and that's how it ends...
autobiographic...
  imagine asking someone
to pay you for this sort of crap...
esp. when they can't relate
to it...
                    but there's this...
and then...
  there's the tabloid press...
                          again: your choice...
personally?
   i can't stomach tabloid
spew...
              as much as i can't stomach
the lovelustre idealists...
i once loved...
          once...
                    once was enough...
after that once...
a sober reality kicks in...
                  and, lucky or unlucky
for me...
        i thankfully don't
have, what's necessary to compete /
provide...
          if there is a god...
i pray: thank you,
       for kicking me out
            from the hierarchy games...
literally: i'm out,
with as much, or little,
               as this little doodle shows;
finally!
    i get to do my pontius pilate
pose -
   not because i didn't try...
i did try...
                 not because i didn't care...
once upon a time...
    imagine that...
ending a book rather than
beginning one with:
                 once upon a time.
no..no...no...DONT GET CLOSE
cuz, yea...yea...
     yea...I suppose
emailing would be
     the safest lagniappe bet,
     where nill expose
sure would moost
     likely NOT infect thee,

     though these really
     quirky, phony (funny) germs
     can be inhaled a
     cross transmission wires
thru the nose
or data packets
     bounced off satellites as
     telecommunications

specialists knows
while (and/or) even if
     all precautions taken
     even extreme measures
     such as cryogenics,
     (where an individual
     ideally after they die)
     doth get froze,

nonetheless this communique
     must be heeded,
     cuz most effective,
     and best assimilated
     before one takes a doze
essentially (non fatal)
     lottery mania flows
within my entire being

     from head to
     fungus infected toes
whar this old rattletrap
     spews castles in the air
akin to a house of cards career
ring into scattered mess
     (resembling 52 pickup),
thus unknown reader

     dune hot dare
casinos, gambling halls,
     horse racing, et cetera
     lest ye contract
     an immobilizing, yet fear
lee innocuous diagnosis,
     asper in do sing glare
ring bug eyes,

     plus affecting a hair
reed styled, and swiftly tailored
     demeanor accompanied
with Scrooge (tiny lee)
     intimating lurch

     ching, and ogling
     qua monopolistic greed
expending every last
     red cent indeed
finding one
     impoverishing themselves
     at light speed!
(alternately titled: ma bell heave hubble
telecommunications gone south).

Best sung courtesy rotten dull liver:red worst
after words which, I gotta quench mine thirst
whereby think Botox lips zipped and pursed
hence impossible linkedin mission Mary Jane
and Buster Brown kisser **** it result socked
hermetically resigned, resealed and cursed.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Atheistic credo fuels (fossil)
jeremiad ordaining undevout
finds me cybersurfing phishing
for poetic effort to tout
March sixth tooth house sand twenty two
presents reasonable rhyming lit writ scout
herewith risk averse longfellow
on his figurative er... route
along information superhighway.

Netizen (generic and garden variety) Cain
not, nor able to don virtualtourist Lausanne
guise, nor Kiev hen twitter among Ukraine
literati earlier today (aforementioned date)
afflicting me courtesy GMO webbed strain
iambic phantom metered node hissing drain
analogous to evaporating Lake Pontchartrain.

Cuz unwitting byte size complicit accessory ghost
haunts micro electronic components machine most
culpable, feasible, n invisible Internet Protocol host
laryngeal mucous phlegm wreaks (think) burnt toast
esophageal acid reflux analogous metaphor, I post
downplaying feeling any reason to rhyme or boast
spun words masterly sharecropped along east coast.

CHORUS:

verse one:

Now, I gotta cure dem rascally misbehavin
data packets between computer blues,
cuz internet fixation yaw truly craven
lobbying scattershot spewing colorful hell raisin
lingo (awk curse) strung expletive epithets
extraordinary Luddite across cyberspace will lose.

verse two:

Hence dial up local kindergartner to troubleshoot
while he/she whistles Mozart's The Magic Flute
or visit nearest zoo to hire nasty, and shortish brute
critical electronic hardware, cuz aye got absolute
zero ability and even less legal tender slangy loot
thus Internet loper feel handicapped as deaf mute
unable to hear auld Donald trumpeting slo vac toot.
vacancies for yellow jackets also available

alternately titled: eave'n roofs houses nidus

If ye dear reader find yourself
as an under appreciated
busy buddy buzzfeeding bee -
hive got just the solution.

When me and the misses
entered side door here
yesterday September 26th, 2021
where both of us live
within one bedroom unit
at Highland Manor Apartments,
we espied hexagon-shaped paper cells
constituting partially completed
reasonably priced
state of the art abode.

Nevertheless, these
myopic eyes of mine
identified when closeup
tiny sign advertising real estate
large enough to house me,
an average size bugaboo.

Yours truly itching to move
to cozier quarters
no matter facilities roofless
imposing long overdue necessity
to strip down trappings
to bare minimum.

Tricked out with state of the art wizardry
microscopic computer processing chips
adorn six identical geometric sides
indeed allowing, enabling and providing
global linkedin telecommunications
beamed in across
bajillion miles from deep space.

All kidding aside
Hymenoptera quite the builder
with innate abilities as their guide
neither prejudice, nor afflicted with pride.

Ever mindful of insects with diaphanous wings,
yours truly quite aware of pain regarding bee stings,
which commentary brings
me to recall the following incident when
quite so many years ago...

Mine eyes espied a glorious shade tree
on a recent brutally hazy,
hot and humid July summer day,
where below the gnarled roots
glazed occipital nerve did not see
yellow-jackets minding their own beeswax
when derriere i.e. did essay
until deux stingers re:
accessible bared skin
apiary members did flay
vulnerable hide bound
part of my right knee,

whereby toxin induced to feel
slightly queasy and appear ashen gray
yet possessed response
to stand up and immediately flee
as cohorts per hive stirred
with protruding stingers ready to lay
into another area of ripe human flesh
with consistency of brie
yet, no intent to be cheesy – nay
on the con tray or re:

only attempting to find good humor
to stave discomfort at bay
which quick thinking found me
summoning medicinal salve
to keep any potential swelling away
thus this mister mom trotted
into Belmont Hills lye bray r e
soaking damp washcloths
(I packed in plastic bag
to cool thyself) and pray

all the while mouthing expletives
more emphatic than oy vey
healing powers of self
would allow this chap to feel okay
enough until my then
thirteen-year-old youngest daughter
and tutor would sashay
out into the blistering heat
so we could be on our home bound way.
(alternatively titled eldest daughter despises us)

Eden (beloved eldest daughter) icy
flat tone of voice spoke volumes,
when she talked with the missus and me
courtesy cellular telecommunications key
December twenty seventh
two thousand nineteen
unwavering listless dull verbalization see
I subsequently told spouse, she
thy super smart self reliant progeny

fending for herself approximately
last half dozen years exhibits je
ne sais quois profound loathing
predicated growing up dirt poor free
quint lee lamenting deprivations re:
guarding legal tender adequate specie
i.e. money - at least compared to every
MainLine millionaire flush with dee -

suppose able income, and oft times
lovingly, pleasantly, unexpectedly...
receiving largasse gift horse courtesy
zayda (my father), who art not yet
in heaven sprung monetary help, ye
this second born and only son did
profusely think him (papa) lee
ving voice messages on his landline,
and tracfone, plus wrote heartfelt poem,

similar acknowledgement modus operandi,
when said offspring
became twenty three
years old - five days ago, nonetheless thee
admirable, dependable, honorable... née
holds Matthew Scott (namely he),
who helped beget
darling feels angry,

and doth plainly exhibits contempt
(you) dear reader guessed correctly
towards sorrowful dada,
where inescapable thralldom
doth invisibly chain
(think ghost of Marley)
apologetic sir, whose
precious kinder, I

will unwaveringly cherish
forever love and revere
despite up paul ling
destitution, grinding linkedin penury,
and red hot poker faced
anger, yes... dismay
prevails how unforgiving
once (Benny sent) baby,

inside joke, I attest neigh
scent "star student,"
now grown young woman,
no longer - figuratively
wrapped around yours
truly her finger
father who fell short, natively cree
hated abhorrent within re

cent mammary, ***** (hers)
harboring scathing unmasked vee
hum mint, blistering, rancorous,
seething, volcanic withering...
no matter disgusting revulsion
toward aging mommy
and repentant daddy,
I LOVE YE EDEN + SHANA!
Innocuous, yet unhealthy threat looms across
(air/radio) telecommunications devices
linkedin with plenti networks that criss cross
even primitive computers utilizing DOS

by George, which archaic code
once powered Mill on the Floss,
now long since covered over
with flora I lichen and recognize as moss.

Surgeon general (Jerome Michael Adams
20th Surgeon General of the United States)
strongly advises against, yet he does not boast
threat looms large coast to coast
watching more than five minutes at most
equivalent machination, the following I post

re: guarding haunting experience
analogous visit by fashionably late ghost
2020 presidential election coverage
able, eager, and ready to prey upon host
whereby curious George experiences
feeling noggin fried like toast.

A carefully worded (fake) communiqué
purportedly the brainchild of one freak
Matthew Scott Harris,
whose jargon puzzling as deciphering Greek
long story short while in utero,

he experienced cerebral leak,
said cheesy mousy man no longer meek
quite evident courtesy literary pique
his haughty style aiming to characterize
generic guy as self anointed Sheikh
sought after acceptance tepid and week.

Nevertheless he speaks/writes truth to power
aforementioned serious risk steeped within
social media platform sensory overload I ascribe,
whereby subliminal messages

voter's blitzkrieg does bribe,
albeit unconsciously, hence me subsequent rhyme
equals forewarning in league with mild diatribe
which receptive yours truly can transcribe.

All joking aside
oversaturation soaking up
presidential election aye chide
against viewing in excess (five minutes at most)
affixed to live streaming broadcast

can find thee steadfast staring getting bug eyed
thus hoop fully let moderation serve as guide
cuz the eventual outcome re: guarding
president elect political experts cannot hide

though be wary lest premature ******* trumpets
sore loser candidate, that
bombastic egotistical ignoramus lied
cuz prejudice nsync with pompous pride
for four years to many
the webbed wide world let him slide,
now as one common Joe,
a hardened criminal he best be tried.
SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN updated *

Innocuous, yet unhealthy threat looms across
(air/radio) telecommunications devices
where smart electronic devices enthrall
and decree they co-opt role bing boss
linkedin with plenti networks that criss cross
even primitive computers utilizing DOS

by George, which archaic code
once powered Mill on the Floss,
now long since covered over
with flora I lichen and recognize as moss.

Surgeon general Admiral Vivek Murthy
helped found several health-
related advocacy groups and later
tackled the opioid epidemic
and e-cigarettes as surgeon
general during Obama administration.
As the Vice Admiral of US Public Health
Service Commissioned Corps,
he commanded a uniformed service
of 6,600 public health officers globally.

As twenty first Surgeon General of United States
strongly advises against, yet he does not boast
threat looms large coast to coast
watching more than five minutes at most
equivalent machination, the following I post
even at expense of suffering soul
subjected fires of hell;

eternally I will roast
re: guarding haunting experience
analogous visit by fashionably late ghost
recall exhausting 2020
presidential election coverage
able, eager, and ready to prey upon host
whereby curious George experiences
feeling noggin fried like toast.

A carefully worded (fake) communiqué
purportedly the brainchild of one freak
Matthew Scott Harris,
whose jargon puzzling as deciphering Greek
long story short while in utero,

he experienced cerebral leak,
said cheesy mousy man no longer meek
quite evident courtesy literary pique
his haughty style aiming to characterize
generic guy as self anointed Sheikh
sought after acceptance tepid and week.

Nevertheless he speaks/writes truth to power
aforementioned serious risk steeped within
social media platform sensory overload I ascribe,
whereby subliminal messages

voter's blitzkrieg does bribe,
albeit unconsciously,
hence me subsequent rhyme
equals forewarning in
(humane) league with mild diatribe
which receptive yours truly can transcribe.

All joking aside
oversaturation soaking up
analogous to heady delight
groom imbibes wedding his bride
presidential election aye chide
against viewing in excess
(five minutes at most)
affixed to live streaming broadcast
can find thee steadfast staring getting bug eyed
thus hoop fully let moderation serve as guide

cuz the eventual outcome re: guarding
president elect political experts cannot hide
though be wary lest premature ******* trumpets
sore loser candidate, that
bombastic egotistical ignoramus lied
cuz prejudice nsync with pompous pride
for four years to many
the webbed wide world let him slide,
now as one common Joe,
a hardened criminal he best bee tried.
(May 6,2020) for umpteenth time,
no deliberate attempt to rhyme
rather to express satisfying reason
incalculable absolute value prime
mate (me) derived bliss oh so divine.

Fresh animal tracks thru equa door
gave urge right of way
plethora experiencing cuteness
(Peru) vid me oy vey

while taking virtually
augmented jaunt to Uruguay
cats, dogs, horses... as they
(meow, ruff, but never neigh... say).

Unlike lions, tigers and bears oh my..
do not know pretentiousness
as evidenced after binge watching
countless videos on AOL homepage
since... well beginning of time,

loosely translates approximately mere decades,
which within world wide webbed world
generally registers soon after
dawn of twenty first century
ushered telecommunications tsunami

(i.e. more specifically
aforementioned web logs
craftily became adventitious
when Internet permeated every day life),
where inspirational cuteness

factor off the charts,
which poetic idea
came to mind watching an owner
over pamper her four legged
furry feline friend.

Melt your heart deal liver red
(really, sincerely, truthfully,
I no kidney you),
nor will ye most likely beg to differ,
but omnipotent bonds between
pets and their owners shed

figurative light intimate communion prevails,
cuz upon demise of beloved
domesticated feline, canine, equine...
inconsolable profuse tears gush
analogous to loss of significant other
he/she did wed.

Mutual unconditional love linkedin
to cathartic, intrinsic, therapeutic... win
win situation offering kinship time and agin
tender loving care if ye been
unstinting purr displaying unfettered compassion
regarding caressing, feeding, massaging... even
cuddling non human creature if not chicken

against getting henpecked,
(no different than child)
both dependent upon regular attention
to allow, enable, and provide escalation
engendering inseparable oh my dog categorical
inextricable unbounded blessedness
beyond infinite realm of calculation.

Perhaps recalling fond
vetted memories, how alert
nsync with non **** sapien
family creature did
unwittingly proffer comfort
vicariously experiencing recollections

viewing podcasts exert
tug of nostalgia, whose absence
(i.e.death) of mine favorite
boyhood pooch (Georgie) did induce hurt,
cuz both of us shared doggone happy times
understanding each other
despite remaining inert.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
"reality": as a "confusion"
   regarding overlapping freedoms -

well, there's no better way to
put it...
      not to me minding it otherwise...

marina o'loughlin's
   article in the sunday times'

july 1 2018 print
           almost, but not necessarily
bemused me...

something similar happened to "me":
i.e. my fwend...

       in an obscure part of the world
known as: the extended aspect
of London...
                  namely Ilford, Essex...

a car drove up to us,
   a: non-identity-politics-descriptive
jumped out and
laboured with: my fwends hands
for a (given today's statard)
   pretty much a mobility
telecommunications: brick...

maybe because it didn't happen
to me, but given i was
so close to the action
     i managed to
                 remember the numberplate
of the car, as it sped away...

and then the oddity
of having to engage in an impetus!
make someone write down
the numberplate,
             walk them to the police
station: and then report it...

the whole affair went to court...
   i sat in a police station looking
at mug shots...
    spotted the ******...
   (although, m'ah fwend couldn't,
which is why the case was
   won by the culprit) -

  funny to think of humanity
a noble idea
   of legal justice,
    like the divine causality of
holding an apple, releasing it,
and it falling to the ground...

the defendant's lawyer presented
me with a mug shoot mimic
exercise...
        apparently my eyes lied to me...
i was not supposed to filter
through the list of mug shots of
other criminals...

       back when you had hardware
representations akin
to polaroid photos...
   so he shows me this photo,
     i can look at the ****-stirrer
sitting in the courtroom...
      but then: i notice that there's
a date on the photograph...

and it's circa 2 years in the least
in reverse...

  so i ask the lawyer a simple
question:
          can you imagine a beard on
me in two years time?

oh i did spot the right ******
from the mugshot reel of examples...
human justice and: cheating...
   in court i had the ******
in my sight, but the defence was:
show the witness, of the ******,
taken 2 years prior...

i should be wearing glasses at this
point, or be propped up
by a walking stick,
   or a blind man's third "limb"...

you get the picture?
      justice, from a mouth of a human
being:
               noble idea...
      but not a exact representation of
a plateau...
              ****! if all is to be brought
before the meta-phren...
                    everything is "nuance"...

so... an ode to marina o'loughlin:
i was there,
          at the expense of an english
court...
            with three judges,
  a lawyer and a defendant...
              and i was the prosecutor with
but one question to mistake a defence...

     and i was overwhelmed with
   "being" wrong, on a subjective whim -
rather than an objective verdict!

     perhaps that's why i believe in a god
and can't, even for a remote second
believe there's a justice invoked by man...

oh **** me... early disney?
    boris brejcha:
                     art of minimal techno tripping -
the mad doctor...

          sober, high, or drunk -
   you can't even imagine the transcendent
value of early disney cartoons...

             unless coupled like that...

and no: i don't see god as a personal favour...
come to think of it -
  i believe in a scattering wind,
    over time - things... just don't account
to being personal...

             impersonality of a deity
is not even a monotheistic approach,
  matched to megalomania...

              to make summit (summary):
i too have seen theft...
             sat in a police station,
            identified the culprit...
   then stood in court...
                     and was denied "justice"
being passed...
on the argument that:
      a photograph, with a date,
        of a past,
                was not adequate
representation of the current visage
of the culprit...

   ergo? i probably need to see an optician,
or i need a prodding stick of a blind man...
of that man, serving "justice":
   is also, the man behind roulette
wheel in las vegas...

         justice isn't blind...
            it's just a subtle variant of gambling.
Small fortune already spent
to maintain 2009 Hyundai Sonata
(pray cuz I love genii, or even mirthful
teletubby heaven sent)
compromising financial means to pay rent,

telecommunications service provider (Verizon),
electric company (PECO), sparking pent
up rage against the machine money meant
to buffer panic attacks
springing up like Jack in the box

yet, yours truly feels his soul got lent
to the devil, impossible mission
peace of mind out of reach for this gent
and the misses forced in poor house
alms reached out
imploring cosmic consciousness

me equal decent
fellow asking please
dole out at least one red cent
with quite a few right sided zeros
before decimal point
to relieve soul searing ailment.

Nor can yours truly afford
a new preowned vehicle
perhaps dismal circumstances
will witness me pedaling
preschool sized tricycle
generating stares aplenty quizzical
bystanders, especially kids

pointing out overgrown practical
joker, many grownups
look twice dismissing optical
illusion concluding meshugganah
mister man maniacal,
nonetheless entire crowd
**** sitters me hysterical.

Thus hoop fully explains zit
all regarding why I writ
silly poem about me,
a pedal pushing panhandler twit
(jab only fore sake of poem),
who wheely did quit
the madcap rat race
cold turkey working for nonprofit

named Matthew Scott Harris,
he sports fifty shades of gray matter
boasting memory equalling one kilobit
more than adequate as Herman's hermit
petsmart exuding blissful esprit
de corp sometimes volunteering
with Smokey as his fiery bandit.

If ja happen to espy
older pencil necked geek
most popular within
of enclave Battle Creek,
cuz, constitutes major producer

comprising breakfast cereal of champions
just toss legal tender into sleek,
the only *** I got to ****'n
actually a family heirloom antique
sold to me on grandfather's deathbed.
outcome of 2020 presidential election announced

Polling places slated to open seven o'clock
in the morning November third two thousand twenty
heightened tensions will strain patience
to breaking point concerning
extreme anticipation common joe experiences
(biden his/her time)
regarding which candidate trumpeted
as de facto commander in chief of United States.

Carpe diem the echoing refrain
heard and seen dispensed and broadcast
across telecommunications medium
cuz the very survival of democracy at stake
ruthless political machinations employed
to seize inalienable codified rights
couched within Declaration of Independence

and Constitution, written ethos, dogma, credo...
compiling aggregate of fundamental principles
or established precedents that constitute
legal basis of a polity, organisation
or other type of entity and commonly
determine how entity governed.

Understanding North American government
inextricably found yours truly agape
when chance occurrence brought hefty tome
into self assigned reading material
which storied author David McCullough
wrote engrossing John Adams biography
I read aloud with measured deliberateness
clearly enunciating each syllable of every word

despite runaway enthusiasm
to acquire historical premise
whereby original thirteen colonies
teetered on brink of immediate collapse
soon after majority representatives
swore fealty among themselves
despite ragtag soldiers
easily overwhelmed courtesy
fighting force of British Empire.

As a staunch affiliate of democratic party,
one veritable common joe
just biding his time,
I trumpet how crass
deleterious, egregious, fractious...
usurpation of power
jackknifed, kickstarted and linked

endemic flood (gushing) hatred
malicious, nefarious, opprobrious putrescence
laid down at the feet
upholding seventy five inches
of corpulent doughy flesh
regarding one conceited, haughty, and obstreperous
politician orchestrating machiavellian leitmotif.

Mark my words, that bull headed incumbent
will clamor, foment, incite, loose chaos
if Democratic candidate garners more votes
at the ballot box nsync with absentee citizens
casting their lot with the worser of two evils
otherwise put head between legs,
and kiss tuckus goodbye,
cuz hell in a handbasket looms on horizon.
pineliquor Aug 2020
nothing sprouts this april out from chipped flowerpots
broken teeth and extended claws will settle along
with dusty roots. cup hope in your hands and run,
it never overflows but drains only. the spring air
tastes of my own breath, in circulation
the rims of eyes tinged pink, pickled on both sides
with salt in tears. we shall retire into stagnation.
blow my brains out with a can of 3% liquor
and spoil my lungs speckled black with peppermint cigs

specks of light caught in cobwebs, in the downward dust spiral
we are betrayed without precedence. if my body is a vessel of water
for tears and sweat and blood, a container of salt,
maybe the crystallized pain within me has clouded
my judgment. gray little rain clouds rising
a forecast denied for all who is seeing. i see you,
from a lit screen, a cracked surface, the lunacy
exchanging i love yous like goodbyes, but this is
not the last. this house is built on quicksand and we
have heard the cracks in walls groan from long ago
a reflex put off, all it takes is a gust of air
to rip across this house of flimsy cards.

this candlelight won't last till morning but take
away my humble offerings. at least we can still
whisper. we still have hands attached to arms attached to
tired brains to make the excursion to close windows shut
from firework lights. every month is the cruelest
and the cracked ground swallows, it's no fond thought
in wishing one day our atoms will walk in air,
tread places we will never afford to go. we no longer
sleep in the same hours but the pauses in your typing
drain away the life of us both. insanity becomes the new
sanity. the flame in your eyes would be distracted
before it dies off in its own time. do we not fill
the gaps in our thinking with mindless chatter
and call it a day. you won't smell the smoke or alcohol
in my words through long distance 4G telecommunications

how did we sink low enough, so that every sound night
of sleeping becomes a blessing, how is it consolation
knowing that morning light will surely break, what then
we are suspended once more in a black tunnel
perhaps the only change is that they no longer bothered
to turn on the lights. of course, this too will pass, distorted
overwritten then forgotten, as we walk blindly,
taking distance, not holding hands, step after step after
the direction we assume to be forward,
exchanging i love yous like farewells.
we are betrayed without precedence.

Apr 9, 2020
Spanish-American War Tax Still Being Collected!

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- The Spanish-American War ended in 1898. In fact, it only lasted from April to August of that year. But one thing has lived on longer than the participants in that war: a federal tax on telephones that was said to be "temporary."

Fortunately, U.S. Rep. Ed Royce (R-CA-39) today voted with the House to repeal the "tax on talking." Royce was a cosponsor of the bipartisan bill [H.R.3916] which passed by a vote of 420-2. The measure now moves to the Senate for consideration.

"Only Washington could extend a tax 102 years. And only Washington would think to tax talking. It’s so unbelievable that it’s a perfect candidate for ‘Ripley’s Believe It or Not’," Royce said. "I would think that after 102 years, we would have paid off the five months of the Spanish-American War. This tax should have ended with it."

Congress first enacted a telephone excise tax in order to help pay for the 1898 Spanish-American War, which lasted only five months. At the time, this "temporary" tax amounted to a penny on long-distance phone calls costing more than 15 cents. Over the years, the federal phone tax has survived efforts to phase it out and scale it back. Congress made it a permanent 3 percent tax on telecommunications services in 1990.

"What else is there on the books? A surcharge for the Civil War?* A tax to pay for World War I? Maybe there’s a tariff on candles to pay for the Revolutionary War still being collected," Royce said.

"The Spanish-American War ended more than 100 years ago; this tax should have ended with it," Royce said. "We must send a message that no longer will ‘temporary taxes’ be permanent. **** this unnecessary tax."

Of the 105.4 million households in America, 99.1 million (94 percent) have telephone service. This telephone tax repeal would provide tax relief to every one of those households. Additionally, due to the rapid pace of technological change, the difference between traditional telecommunications, the Internet and other technologies is increasingly unclear. If the federal phone tax remains on the books, it would jeopardize recent efforts to keep the Internet free from taxation.

*Actually, there is -- the estate tax (death tax) is a relic from the Civil War, and the first federal income tax began during that period.
alternately titled: incorrigible lottery dreamer
big plans to relocate self and spouse
to some tropical island paradise
by the dashboard light
(the above line credited
to musician named Meatloaf)
upon arrival of Stanley steamer.

When my ship comes in loaded
and laden with precious cargo
from busy ports far and wide
captains trumpeting their arrival
donning sunglasses traipsing incognito
yours truly spied
at merchants wares
cast dark shadows
from the outer limits at noontide.

A fool's errand finds me emptying out billfold,
while being gagged and bound with a blindfold
My blood runs cold
My memory has just been sold
My angel is the centerfold
steaming with madness analogous
to exhaust or intake manifold,
especially as the winnings increase ninefold
videre licet building castles in the air
courtesy precarious scaffold
tumbles down into a bajillion little pieces untold.

Paradise visage and eyes a bulge with dollar signs
whets imagination with Mega Millions ticket bought
for potential wealth overtakes rational self
with delusions of grandeur caught
allow, enable and provide flirtation
with fate to experience rich draught
envision emancipation proclamation
and utter premature *******
from penury a distant battle fought

expect the usual outcome
after next drawing to yield monetary naught
temptation for instant millions eagerly sought
human foible to reach until life lesson taut
for elusive *** of riches
streak of universal desire
and tacked clear of shoals,
where hand to mouth
hardscrabble existence wrought.

This poor man's pipe dream
nsync with the milkmaid and her pail,
where fanciful notions
pluck me out being day late and dollar short
essentially pennilessness in the extreme
story of mein kampf fortune teller
also known as Zoltar speaks machine
said contraption did foredeem
substantiated, kickstarted, corroborated...
courtesy an archenemy Joaquim
(fiend nixed) and his tall sidekick Kareem
both rogues could shine figurative longerbeam
and discern mine ill fate,

Meanwhile creative endeavors
and linguistic pleasure
thru the literary attempt
suitably with my poetic side
third eye blind
(living a life of total focus
on the empty, finite lusts
of the material world,
instead of on the promise
of eternal realms of life hereafter)
palliative, yet less rewarding versus
garnering large sum of money
would be a dog send

delivered by one blessed angel in disguise
redemption and salvation assuage temptation
considered thankful find
with challenges or commiserate
and complement via words of positive kind
feeble attempt where words synchronize
readers may espy hidden puns
within this rhyme lined
to pry poem or prose from mind
deliberate semblance to communicate
and extract idea from cranial rind
analogous how stitcher doth tightly wind
a tapestry of rich and royal hue.

No..no...no...DON'T GET CLOSE
cuz, yea...yea...yea...
I suppose mailing altruistic donation
would be the safest lagniappe bet,
where over exposure
would most likely NOT infect thee,
though these really quirky,
phony (funny) germs can be inhaled
across transmission wires
thru the nose or data packets

bounced off satellites
as telecommunications specialists
worth while (and/or) even if I fall
precautions taken even extreme measures
such as cryogenics,
(where an individual
ideally after they die)
doth get froze,
nonetheless this communiqué
must be heeded cuz most effective,

and best assimilated
before one takes a doze
essentially (non fatal) lottery mania
flow within my entire being
from head to toe fungus
infected what this old rattletrap
specs castles in the air akin to a house of cards
careering into scattered mess
(resembling 52 pickup),
thus unknown reader

dune hot dare casinos,
gambling halls, horse racing, et cetera
lest ye contract an immobilizing,
yet fearless innocuous diagnosis,
buffer in themselves
with aspirin do sing glaring bug eyes,
plus affecting a hair styled,
and swiftly tailored demeanor
accompanied with Scrooge
(tiny timid lee)

intimating lurching, and ogling
qua monopolistic greed
expending every last red cent
indeed finding one
impoverishing themselves
at reo wagon light speed,
especially after getting flying high
courtesy stone temple pilot
buzzfeeding me with ****.
outcome of 2024 presidential election announced.

Polling places slated to open seven o'clock
in the morning November third
two thousand twenty four
heightened tensions will strain patience
to breaking point concerning
extreme anticipation common joe experiences
(biden his/her time)
regarding which candidate trumpeted
as de facto commander in chief of United States.

Carpe diem the echoing refrain
heard and seen dispensed and broadcast
across telecommunications medium
cuz the very survival of democracy at stake
ruthless political machinations employed
to seize inalienable codified rights
couched within Declaration of Independence

and Constitution, written ethos, dogma, credo...
compiling aggregate of fundamental principles
or established precedents that constitute
legal basis of a polity, organisation
or other type of entity and commonly
determine how entity governed.

Understanding North American government
inextricably found yours truly agape
when chance occurrence brought hefty tome
into self assigned reading material
which storied author David McCullough
wrote engrossing John Adams biography
I read aloud with measured deliberateness
clearly enunciating each syllable of every word

despite runaway enthusiasm
to acquire historical premise
whereby original thirteen colonies
teetered on brink of immediate collapse
soon after majority representatives
swore fealty among themselves
despite ragtag soldiers
easily overwhelmed courtesy
fighting force of British Empire.

As a staunch affiliate
of democratic party,
one veritable common joe
just biding his time,
I trumpet how crass
deleterious, egregious, fractious...
usurpation of power
jackknifed, kickstarted and linked
endemic flood (gushing) hatred
malicious, nefarious,

opprobrious putrescence
laid down at the feet
upholding seventy five inches
of corpulent doughy flesh
(courtesy McDonald's)
regarding one conceited,
haughty, and obstreperous
politician orchestrating narcissistic
machiavellian leitmotif kick/jump starting.
iniquitous, horrible, grief for everyone.

Mark my words, that bull headed incumbent
will clamor, foment, incite, loose chaos
if Democratic candidate garners more votes
at the ballot box nsync with absentee citizens
casting their lot with the worser of two evils
otherwise put head between legs,
and kiss tuckus goodbye,
cuz hell in a handbasket looms on horizon.

— The End —