Matthew Harris | + Follow Poet |
Bio | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Our youngest offspring

The breast of this dada heaves
with remorseful painful ache
as if...the insides of my body
into a bajillion pieces break
though anniversary of birth,
I intended to write, but... did rake
akin to hot coals, an overwhelming agony
wrought urgent compulsion to slake

expunging sudden onset, shook me awake,
how this papa brought years of heartache,
upon an innocent newborn,
oh no...definitely "not fake,"
and her elder protective sibling Eden
(understandable not to forgive), - who lake
(like) an "uber quasi mother"
did welcome thee with a fair shake

(twenty Earth orbitz ago February 4th, 2019)
metamorphosed into such an adoring, giving,
and loving lass unbeknownst, when she did make
her debut (passing the 
Apgar test with flying colors) for goodness sake
cuz, I betcha you studied while in utero,
thus said standard assessment involving intake
and outflow of breath
as seconds old infant piece of cake,

and unexpected eruption of despair,
thus found me sinking into melancholy air
and compounded as "mother",
and I became aware
how cognitive skills
(additionally low body weight) clear
lee delayed triggering screaming
bouts from thee dear

special Punim, and
oft times this papa flare
with frustration and volley with
reciprocated enraged voice
imbecile and juvenile antics of mine clear
lee heard outside 1148 Greentree Lane
neighbors possibly a grizzly bear
broke loose from the zoo,

or other beast escaped their lair,
thus prompting me to post a sign beware
of the ferocious father, and dare
to enter at your own risk,
and do not forget to mutter a prayer
lest ye be swallowed in one fell swoop,
and nobody would hear
from that person again

cannibalized by Matthew 
Scott mailer daemon,
whose surly mood embittered by rare
stints of employment, otherwise we lived
dirt poor surviving on diet of worms, I swear
to be totally "FAKE",
but hyperbole to lyft shaky spear
writs.

Please Login to post a comment