Figurative Paralysis Laid Waste Body Electric of Mine
Figurative paralysis laid waste body electric of mine
This is Spinal tap
bamboozling, binding, bleeding, bombing...
ripped from every dog eared
and book marked page
recounting latest ill fated fiasco,
now peppering my life and hard times
causing quite an ache – fiercely teasing
(the fire cat) curative panaceas
sans almond sunset, chamomile,
Osage Tea for the Tillerman.
I tell myself Yukon try
grabbing at straws
with all your might to no avail
even enlisting Strain gauge
in tandem donning
common cents equipage
with a bunch of bootlegged banshees
freed from their cage
and as last ditch resort
drafting electric eels.
Yours truly as shock absorber quite astute
accompanied by Jack and the Giant
beanstalk golems to boot
or lion eye zing tiger
(perhaps named Tony,
mean to the bone, but...oh so cute,
who dwells in a tony neighborhood),
swishing (Nike like) tail,
and held up ala playing the flute
an unseen hellacious, ferocious, atrocious
or outlandishly jowly, egregious beast,
who expelled offal asphyxiating
noxious, odious, pernicious, et cetra odor
from a moon unit sized Glute
yea, I could also allude
to some Monty Python flying dragon,
who gives nada hoot,
somehow remotely controlling
any errant cyber wayfaring day tripper
simultaneously while droning
sheepishly not to ram into ewe.
These high speed U-Haul trucks
combine all the above scenario,
to glean mental state of mine
aye know really sucks,
which gagging induces
the worst instance of reflux
making little rheum for ordinarily
phlegmatic ho hum (what me worry
Alfred E. Neuman
persona non grata) guy.
Sum total of available funds
(since being defrauded to the hilt)
to qualify for credit card,
would only feebly meet Karma
credit rating as risky business
approximating the quacking
of red hot inflamed ducks
(my apologies to PETA, Paul, Luke...),
they madly flap wings, yawping beaks,
visa vis masterfully discovered on par
with orange iz the new black
evidenced courtesy Wu Tang clan
in no way, shape, nor form
unrelated to que clucks clan.
Whew...only then
(after reviewing the situation)
panoply of mystical elements of breath aired
per millennia times two resonated
veritable pantheon of superstitions
fired imagination as catalyst
viz homo sapiens forehead
tugging simian beard,
whence bygone agents provocateurs
fueled tens of previous generations
bred Manichaeism credo,
a nebulous ethos sans early humanity
vetted dual chaired
spirit world wide web populated
with dominatrix Roman sol invictus
wrought fiery brimstone who dared
assert antiestablishmentarian dogma
got hounded to whit; the bowels
of hellish firmament most
and/or many feared,
they would be pitched headlong
into said purported fiendish furnace,
thus particular obeisance payed
to morays; any voracious
marine coastal eel of the family Muraenidae,
esp Muraena helena, marked
with brilliant patterns and colours.
Copyright ©
Matthew Harris
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