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Watching Upcoming Toilet Bowl Lvii Highlight of February 12th, 2023
Watching upcoming toilet bowl lvii highlight of February 12th, 2023 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 One puny socially verily withdrawn lad no surprise experienced suicidal ideation throughout public school even as undergrad never wagon figurative tail when fired from one after another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 bloody 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.
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Harris. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs