Howami Hmm Good Question

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.