Matthew Harris Poet Free verse

Please Quietly Build Me a Flibbertigibbet

(alternately titled:
this stoned temple pilot ready for Styx)

I hate tubby a nuisance
     boot ma checking account...
suffered a major hit strafed
     with a shock king
     (difficult to absorb) 'bout
mid morning today August fourteenth,
     tooth how sand eighteen
     and got rushed with clout

to the nearest emergency triage facility,
     the doctors (all
     named Piggy Penny Banks)
     shook their head with doubt
prognosis for recovery requires more'n
     just a dime a dozen,
     (or quarter back) appeal,
hence my plea for posting,

     this helter skelter heroic measure
     summarily and in fact
     donate myself (earning Purple Heart
     as a non veteran)
     bone a (er) fide done deal
yea, aye even forgo thine
     cock a doodle doo lil pecker,
     which minimally doth 
     newt rue, stir, nor ring

     atrophied house broken
     barely visible prick tis docile, and
     (like a game cock)
     willy nilly able
     at a moe mince notice
     dir wreck lee (stand stiff)
     head over heal
no...no..no, though

     strut that eye feel rendered poverty stricken,
     a sudden dark mood
     finds me less eager tubby alive
asper thine primary (albeit only)
     checking account poorly
     weathered a kamikaze nose dive
with the plight of pennilessness
     unexpectedly looming...

     (parental advisory) breaking news at five,
when motley crews auto be buzzing
     like a b52 sized bee hive
ah...mine posthumous fame,
     and fortune posse sub bully
     as palliative relieving
     grave gallows humor
     small consolation, whereat
     I cannot fathom to facebook,
     snapchat, nor do the shutterfly jive!

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