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Poem

An unexpected burst of energy
helped fashion a second poem he
ving up from deep within the key
per of Matthew Scott's ideas - nee
i.e. unexpectedly manifesting que
cull lee coalescing, buta not three
endeavors crafted since quota we
kind to exhaust passion before zee...

land revisited, when
     a call for shot eye
guarantees, a dearth of ideas
     will no longer fly
with plentitude, whereby
     exertion from this guy
will necessitate to type
     briskly before hie....

ah...whew...just when
     I felt at a loss what to write...
bitta bing bitta bang
     (optional chitty at no extra cost),
     lo and behold ear splitting,
     appalling sounds did in vite
until dusk hands clapped
     over each ear tight

to muffle noise pollution spite
fully generated by
     rambunctious youths,
     who know no right
that gunning engines quite
obnoxious, and that conviction
     edited (by me) tubby polite
buffer this chap hunkers
     down for the night.

the following constitutes the e-man
     soup pay wanton declaration
     emphatically, independently,
     and obnoxiously
     transmitted thru ether
these loathsome roar of dirt bikes
     punctuates the formerly quiet air
where local high school

     teenage mutant ninja 
     male turtles blare
     (an educated presumption)
at top notch threshold decibel
     definitely inducing deafness,
     which will soon be clear
to those motorheads
     flooring accelerator scaring deer

and other sparse wildlife,
     whose engines I hear
miles away, cuz this bard arse
     got extreme (ear river rent)
     hyper sensitivity to sound
perhaps linkedin
     tummy predisposition,
     could allow ma

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