Our refrigerator ought to be declared a Superfund site
Our refrigerator ought to be declared a Superfund site...
whereat the subsequent lines
lack any relation to the title
but like most every poetic endeavor
immediately becomes tangential
re: irrelevant to main subject of discussion,
digressing to unrelated points
characteristic of my trademark
swiftly styled and harried tailored,
and failing to return to original idea
with embedded symbolic logic
to better confuse the unsuspecting reader
which remaining written material
best understood after quaffing inxs of xylite
a liquid hydrocarbon
found in crude wood spirits,
or it can describe fossilized wood
that resembles brown coal
a natural sweetener
about 60% as sweet as sugar
often used in sugar-free foods
and beverages, such as chewing gum,
candies, and mouthwashes
distributed as door prizes
after elbow grease applied
leaving the inside
of the refrigerator
spick and span.
Not one square inch
of the once pristine
inside fridge no longer white
the wife begs to differ, whereby
even the pestiferous vermin
did protest and unite
against the glop and goo,
plus she claims
to be selectively color blind,
and thus defers her husband (me)
to tend to arduous
back breaking task tonight
since she knows how much
I like to bend over,
but actually on my hands and knees
while reaching with scrub daddy
(courtesy the famous cleaning influencer
Auri Kananen strong as an ox
a professional cleaner from Finland
popularized and touts said product),
but yours truly experiences back pain
that radiates to the sacral lumbar,
(and thus while reduced to crawling,
maneuvering left and right
on all fours, or tabletop position
I pray for Mary Poppins) quite
who hopefully can catch
the next umbrella express outright
and show up before night,
where dark shadows from
the outer limits of the twilight zone
within the bishopric of the king,
there once a pawn a time
accorded quite a bit of might
and as his mentor
lived a tarnished knight
essentially his incognito
cause at heart he claimed to be a Jacobite
stood about 182.88 centimeters in height
a rather diminutive chap,
and the proud papa
who never liked to quit
despite being diagnosed
with Parkinson's disease
a chronic, progressive neurological disorder
characterized by accumulation
of a protein called
alpha-synuclein in the brain
where respected researchers
suggests that alpha-synuclein
may trigger an autoimmune response,
leading to the destruction of brain cells
since questions arose about his death
a funeral director, a forensic archaeologist
or anthropologist, a medical professional
(like a forensic pathologist),
an Environmental Health Officer (EHO),
or a specialized exhumation firm,
depending on the circumstances
and jurisdiction his body electric
exhumed from gravesite
exhibiting more than one odd tick,
and new breakthroughs did excite
the biomedical engineers
discovered his essential tremors
perfectly synchronized
with Foucault's pendulum
and thus allowed, enabled,
and provided an excellent opportunity
for the author of these words
to surpass his prior appellation
linkedin to questionable supposition
he got erroneously hashtagged
and mistakenly reported
by Walter Leland Cronkite
an American broadcast journalist
who served as anchorman
for the CBS Evening News
from 1962 to 1981
unwittingly and accidentally uttered a faux pas
back in the day as idiot savant
now referred to as savant syndrome
or, in some contexts, autistic savant
nevertheless when here along,
he did rank (cull) as king of blatherskite.
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