Email Poem

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Poem
Howami? hmm... good question,
but for some unknown reason
more tired than usual...,
without daily twenty four hours
proper rest, I feel haggard.

I strongly suspect (a hunch acquired
upon returning home
after visiting Notre Dame)
deep sleep interruptions...
attributed to uncontrollable need:
tap a kidney, micturate, spend a penny
(thee last mentioned British, informal)...
quite displeasing... yea urinate kidding.

Methinks perhaps to purchase adult diapers
(or fashion/repurpose water absorbent material)
in an effort to stave off awakening groggily
after experiencing an awesome dream, cuz
REM (rapid eye movement cycle) interference

courtesy natural function versus external
noise, which when slumbering both equally
affect bringing about onset of fatigue,
yet herewith yours truly intent to hone in
on former.

Meanwhile, he hoops to entertain thee dear
anonymous reader with the following poem
posthumously dashed off while falsely
believing himself to transition into afterlife

So sit back and kick up dem heels
without falling on yar crown
and/or bare stocking feet
and/or if ye prefer by all means lie down
attempting moost impossible mission

to flip (i.e. reverse) any lurking frown
other than standing on head whereby gown
and/or other stitch of clothing (casual wear)
preparatory to embarking on scheduled hoedown,
perchance participating among other groupies

(a gratefully deadset of fervent beastie boys
and goo goo dolls) join fracas intown
where martial law heightened surveillance
police able, ready and willing with Billy clubs
to crack then scramble noggins, and knockdown

civilly disobedient citizens in dire straits
politely courtesy coronavirus
(COVID-19) lockdown,
which heavily truncated livingsocial options
inextricably linkedin with societal meltdown

psychological fallout endemic among Caucasian
or hue men/women talking heads of natural nutbrown
persuasion, which madding crowd (think Woodstock)
where little upstate New York town
of Bethel hmm became quickly overgrown

with peaceable folks across gamut
regarding age, nationality, race, religion...,
rendered superfluous strong arm of law to putdown
and/or quell any anarchistic uprising
(perhaps even top brass 
military industrial complex)

incognito as... beetle browed brothers
of some contraband slated to perform
and eventually gain world wide webbed renown
donating their unexpected proceeds
to upgrade and gentrify

one after another shantytown
even boosting fame and (mis)fortune
of Matthew Scott Harris
at long last, he could relocate
out his tumbledown abode to parts unknown.
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