Matthew Harris Poet Bio

Perpetual Queasy Student Days Recess 2

mysterious as Lemuel
     unlike hundreds of
     other rowdy seniors
     constituting the nineteen
     seventy seven graduating class
     of Methacton High School,
this now mooch older non "Warrior"
     (alma mater mascot) alumni -

     of late more astute,
(yea rather boyish looking edging
     into age bracket,
     viz ranked as ole coot)
far to late for
     me or any brute
to gather rose buds,
     fat and/or slim 

     chance i.e. remote
     while I may in my dreams
     play Mozart's Magic flute
     at this late stage of life,
     no harvested crop yield,
     nor any sown
     healthy product rendered moot
('cept tantamount to rotten

     tomatoes and fruit)
all, cuz your truly
     did not give a hoot
'bout his future,
     later when the
     requisite need for loot
would be absolutely necessary,
     not necessarily to buy

     a fine gold spun suit,
but more so to be financially
(non bombastically, egotistically,
     nor inimitably) to toot
my own (baritone)
     horn, no any which
     ways appearing snoot
tush (more likely absent minded,

     versus trying tubby astute),
no matter this myopic googly eyed
     non-boastful logophile,
     these days (lives duet
tough lee hand to mouth
     existence) nearly destitute
his whole pro Lix life,
     witnessed, and flaunted

     (reed dit as) inked badge,
     (regardless getting promoted,
     but nearly failing every grade),
     and ambivalent toward
     dismal poor performance report cards
     testament toward tummy
     severely lacking ambition,
     while analogously forced

     to climb hemp fat tick rungs
     jute dish shuss academic ladder,
     no matter rope burns
     squarely didst root
moost unfavorable outcome
     to this wimp who mouthed
     pop eyed expletive 
     conveying "oh chute",

     whose then palm (olive)
     oiled pilot size glute
more accurately boot
found me poor bum promoted
     to higher baby boomer chair

     despite favorably portentous signs
     tubby potential vagrant,
     who would lack self reliance,
    nor give a hoot
to stitch survivalist parachute.

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