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Some Man Ticks

Aye haint gonna mention anyone by name,
     and git myself poisoned
     with deadly tocsin, a most wick
kid demise act of vengeance cheap trick

boot Mayan tent to write this poem,
     a message came tummy mind rather quick,
and fuel a contrived rumor hoop fully
     spreading like wild fire
     from this nada so sainted Nick

juiced for pure sport and to kick
start and spellbind denunciatory, deprecatory,
     and derogatory unfounded slander
     toward one country bumpkin,

     who lives in the sticks of Hick
ville, and unfortunately
     shares the same body as me,
     an old curmudgeon full of (lix) spittle,
     with lovely bones that crick,

thus, while spur of the moment whim arose
     (take bull by the horns
     asthma late grammar used to say), aye chose
to hash out matter of fact playful verse,

     while ma doppelganger doth doze
and trump scathing "FAKE" news expose
zing ambivalent (nee loathsome)
     punishing sentiments 

     ach'n ma heart
     with daggers of icy sin tax
     directed as rhetorical linguistic floes
vicariously experiencing euphoria,
     red hot poker glows

within the scabrous, tenebrous,
     and villainous haughty yahoo
an unprepossessing, quite,
     and nattering kooky human

     immune to voodoo
he coon sitters himself smug,
     throughout every single sinew

of his (and mine) corporeal essence
     directly descended
     from storied Machu Picchu of Peru
yet his (ah, and mine)
     suppressed genealogy branch

     also includes, an a meow
zing small percentage of Neanderthal Jew
evidenced by genetic test 23andme,
     which helps explain primate characteristic

     dragging (sic) hairy knuckles,
     where thick callouses grew
thus aye conclude 
     (just in the nick of time

     as he who must not be mention) drew
a breath upon awakening
     from a nap bright tailed, 
     and bushy eyed anew.




Copyright © matthew harris

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