Get Your Premium Membership

Roguish Reincarnated Ribbing Raconteur

Roguish reincarnated ribbing raconteur... Ruminating, while rustling, and roping regular riff raff galore with deliberate intent tomb ache mummy dearest laugh till she falls down Mariana Trench deep down on zee sea floor, where tears trickle thence pour down her cheeks causing flash floods that did roar back in the day of dinosaur triggering erosion plus extinction regarding "terrible lizards," unwittingly opening figurative door regarding wild speculation by George, i.e. ninety eighty four bajillion years ago maya inca ling extempore rainy us hypothesis, whereby this troubadour posits sketchy jaw dropping conjecture synchronization, superstition, strangulation... roaming contra band predecessor rock hitted rolling stones hook, line and sinker gathered no hardy moss, nor grunting gripes re: ain't got no satisfaction store reed prehistoric bipedal hominids embarkation commenced way before führer set to even World War I score back hazy mists time immemorial vulnerable scattered shortish, nasty brutish primates bore ring, measly, niche indeed kickstarted guttural folklore fierce predators heavily outnumbered lacked aptitude to deplore chance fluke circumstances take out boxed survival diet of worms held in escrow to check propensity trending cocksure bazillion future generations, when forebears would explore comfort zones outer limits, meanwhile mine and your great great great... grandparents kept low profile learning hardcore bare necessities to shore scant population uttering primal bonjour. How quaint to contemplate, when proto humans continuity at mercy of indiscriminate fate where unavoidable, uncontrollable, unpredictable... forces decreed demise contracting early death versus to dilate envisioning disadvantageous, horrendous, precarious tenuous... toehold *****sapiens descendents I equate with apocalyptic unpleasant fate predicated pitching humanity teetering on brink, where self destruction will accelerate unless species doth ameliorate weapons of mass destruction while doomsday clock ticks closer to...

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things