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Schlerotic schlemiel schleps and says Shalom

Schlerotic schlemiel schleps...and says Shalom...

to anonymous readers March 6th, 2021
(blustery and chilly Saturday)
reminiscing about mien kampf,
when precious irretrievable youth
frittered away within
emotional wilderness of mine.

Into lonely senescence -
three plus decades already elapsed
trepidation, hesitation, abdication... unbearably
tugging, shouldering,
remonstrating accumulation
of "baggage" thumb

of right hand thrust out
silently raving, quaking
cursing ultimatum parents
(soffit to fascia in)
saw fit to fashion
and hammer home

red hot poker rage
their singular male offspring
middle child of two sisters,
who long since vacated premises
when both young naifs
prior to attaining age of consent

deploring bing holed up
at 324 Level Road redoubt
(long since razed)
built as summer house
remote from fracas of urban bedlam
still one hundred years since Leipers
bon voyage into netherland

father and mother
imposed swiftly tailored
harried styled tough love
translated meant absolute zero value
toward offspring they begot,
and made quite clear loathing

heaped upon sundered fountainhead
good for nothing son of a...,
he whittled away precious time
reading avast among trove of material
crowdsourcing numerous bookshelves
mostly to impress intellectual visitors,

when in truth middle aged couple
thinly veiled country bumpkins,
donned with "FAKE" literacy
stereotypical "rednecks,"
inexplicably begot wunderkind
agog with inhaling literature

in tandem with liberal
magazines and newspapers
oft times whiled away countless hours
sunup to sundown
sequestered most remote nook
within local library (Evansburg)

few miles walk along country road
served as self taught schooling
since parochial educated regimen
habitually rapped knuckles
courtesy whiplike hickory stick
if pupil evinced slightest

distraction, whence schoolmaster
detected lack of attention
as crotchety curmudgeon
blankly droned monotonously
dull jabbering subjected
stone faced classmates

into instant soporific state
futilely struggling to keep eyelids
slamming shut tight
including yours truly,
who when suddenly awake
realized quite a vivid dream!

PostScript: I slightly 
refashioned, repurposed and revised
above crafted semi fictitious poem
(written scant years ago)
cuz poignant pathos
to plod along boulevard
of broken dreams still persists into present.

Copyright © matthew harris