Matthew Harris Poet Dramatic Monologue

Inspection Time 2018

Inspection Time 2018!

Dum...dum...dum...dum...DUH -
     anxiety shot thru stratosphere upon
     good news notification aboot
a fortnight from this last
     Friday of August tooth

     house sand date teen,
     rankling the body
     electric sans this "FAKE" ole coot
which panic stricken state
     (as iterated above),

     where quiet listening affected
     (with eyes shut wide)
     Mozart's The Magic Flute
hearing such melodic notes
     while lying sue

     pine versus sitting
     upon me comfort
     ably numb glute
if attuned to said renown composer,
     whose name familiar

     'round the world wide web,
     where his person posthumously
     rings up substantial loot,
yet such rambling moot,
when priority must first

     and foremost doth attend,
asper tidying up
     apartment, cuz inspection
     just around the bend
thus also a prayer would be

     appreciated (by this atheist)
     and/or juiced an email friend
e'en keeping limitation,
     i.e. sharing trained,
     unwavering, vaunted, wishing,

     yearning for zesty gerund
forming relationship to
     the maximum reciprocity,
     thee world wide web doth lend
no...no...no...NOT focused

     on anything greater,
     than heartfelt succor, asper
     tear riff hick
     genuine fantastic Earthling
     my darned cruel blimey

     soc erratic angst to mend,
though married, tis 
     resplendent dear people
     scattered far and wide
courtesy of the internet,

     one can ride
upon the information
     super highway with pride
minus prejudice and
     trusty Google as guide,
perhaps...even fostering,
     kickstarting, and ushering
     online groom and/or bartered bride.

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