Matthew Harris Poet Bio

My Earliest Retrospective Yule Tide Memories Circa Mid 1960s Act One

upon contemplating how to access 
   a lapsed half century woolworth 
   didst weigh more'n five and dime 
   afore i hove up existential ante
bell and clapper journeys 
   truncated, predicated, conjugated 
   on abundant buoyant chant 

eyelids gently shuttered while seated   
   in an easy chair, a grant
from  anonymously disposed rubbish   
   to schlep this accoutrement did enduce a pant

cuz, this mid dull ledged papa no spring rooster, 
   and now easily became ensconced with scant
exertion enveloped within comfortably numb 
   meditative state tant 

a mount to hypnosis, which quickly quietly, 
   and quintessentially evoked bliss
stirred wordsmith hood succomb 
   to an altered state, analogous to virtual reality, a hiss

sans, remembrance of things past, 
   whereby with negligible mental effort wuss  
sold magical mindbending arch, whereat a 
   (rainbow like emulation mode), this miss

sing Whoosh DID NOT require 
   much cerebral exertion from me
to pry loose avast treasure trove 
   of locked precious childhood memories    
visited by hindsight aye could see

long since stowed away, 
   yet methought Xmas theme would re
mind this baby boomer prithee
(encased in nearly inpenetrable 
   thick gauzy cobwebs, and huge... 

   droning spy ware spiders did flee
thence, with a figurative brush of hand, 
   a simulacrum curtain pulled back, whence glee
son shone vis a vis, cuz, 
   an illusory chink of light shed forth where he

upon forgotten one favorite 
   nursery rhyme lyrics, which faux holographic beam
recollected as if momentarily carried back 
   to me own ole Virginny hide deem
stood atop raised causeway immersed

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