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GREEN DAY revisited

	GREEN DAY – revisited
     Although the following poetic/prosaic material written January eighteenth two thousand and eighteen, I came across these encapsulated, enclosed, encoded, and encrusted with barnacle clad body electric of my trademark crafted gobbledygook today January third two thousand and twenty three.  
     Though the heyday and stellar popularity didst long since wane, I still enjoy listening to select song titles (to many for listing here along this virtual boulevard of broken dream) of this iconic Punk Rock band unique rapid fire machine gun punctuated trademark style still induces goosebumps IF only because my eldest daughter used to be a rabid fan. 
     She even voluntarily recruited this papa (and asked me in her coy, diminutive, earnestly irresistible purring kitty cat demeanor if yours truly could taxi herself, and one or more best buddies, (whom she keeps in regular communication to this Green Day) to the the theatrical performance “American Idiot” being shown on Broadway. Hence I rented a vehicle, and nervously hightailed into the core of the Big Apple for the first time in my hermetically sealed seminarian like sequestered life. 
     Unsure at the present status of this three (?) member all male musician troupe (with a moderate sized following at the zenith of their renown i.e. with quite a motley crue of groupies to boot), nonetheless at the height of fame and fortune experienced by said trio, a spurious whim spurred this middle aged chap to jot down his feelings of unbridled affinity toward said talented three person creative young men within a poetic format (left unmodified only if there appeared a typographical error, or an ambiguous awkward outdated word arrangement) will be appended below.
Billie Joe Armstrong, 
Mike Dirnt, and Tre Cool,
which trio known 
(the world wide web over) 
as the band Green Day
composed lyrics and melodies 
this listener did imbibe
analogous to downing musical fuel
no matter the lead singer
supposedly never graduated 

from high school,
yet raw bits of primal utterance 
approximated immense talent galore,
which excessive indulgence 
with amber liquids of the dogs
or flagrant downing 
consciousness expanding material
filled the airwaves of soundstage and/or studio
with snapping, popping, and crackling 
rhythmic synchronicity evoking images 
of warm from a Yule tide burning log.

I (a common, easy going, generic kid,
a garden variety and generic American Idiot) 
spent childhood years 
practicing the piano, 
which tickling the ivory (way before 
realization brought to my attention, 
how elephants illegally 
poached and slaughtered), 
for shear sporting whim
pounded the keys with vigor and vim

speculated at how dissimilar mine fate, 
would possibly be if dedication sustained 
to be a self driven task master 
while mollycoddling the baby grand,
perchance me billfold and financial accounts
would not be extremely paltry and slim
reflected then and now, 
on one of those “what if...could a, 
should a would a...” hypothetical queries
and wonders When Stopping By Woods
on a Snowy Evening  

if Robert Frost enshrined and rim   
mem bored viz signature ruminating 
about “The Road Not Taken”
might fancy himself joining a seminary 
(rather peculiar though from an atheist)
obeying behavioral edicts 
(with no discipline required 
from “religious fathers”proper and prim,
hence baring the habit as a nun 
in a convent chances negligible to him

i.e. me, yet...all those mewing kitties 
will more closely match my anthem
but un-natural suppression sans animal, 
carnal, feral...predilections
finds thoughts quickly being
dismissed cuz of such 
restrained celibacy codas,
and even preferring to be dangling 
(literally), and holding on for dear life 
from a rather straggly limb

even clinging with diminishing strength 
resorting to contriving 
a rip public kin battle Hymn
knowing likelihood 
(When I Come Around)
for immediate salvation grim
er ring, and fading outlook 
Whatsapp eared dim
getting anxious, and 
minimally cautiously optimistic

that When September Ends piercing 
me (a Basket Case)
flesh with pellets of cold rain
grip upon the slippery bark will induce 
greater anguish emotional pain
unsure if mine demise will be a cometh, 
as grim reaper doth gain
another mortal, whose life cut short   
will induce a gaping hole 
within thy family chain.

Copyright © Matthew Harris

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