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Transmogrification Into Hideous Golem Like Beast

Transmogrification into hideous golem like beast...

Seeks to lavish adoration,
especially after freshly deceased
cuz, upon yar flesh I will voraciously
devour thee asthma Christmas feast
mee haint not a cannibal,

cuz this humane anthropophagist
expresses love daintily, hungrily,
and with lips smacking and creased
devours thee charbroiled,
chargrilled, raw or greased.

The above worst case scenario if you
ignore serious warning
and interrupt my sleep
particularly during
rapid eye movement phase,

cuz vital to dream unconsciously deep
if left alone (meaning no awakening me
into foggy, groggy, and soggy state)
lest I manifest into a creep
more horrific (think)
by Dickens Uriah Heep.

Ordinarily mine Hyde bound diabolical
persona non grata
kept under wraps
dramatic malevolent manifestation
only appears only,
when requisite precious dream snaps
courtesy when some wise acre

foolish enough upon me noggin
doth drums, joyfully raps
itty in Blue knuckles (think drum),
cuz as An American in Paris
on permanent holiday courtesy lapse
of rhyme reason
(thank prefrontal lobotomy

to alleviate oppressive
anxiety linkedin with)
absence of necessary cerebral apps
induces predilection to relapse
into atavistic Geico caveman perhaps,
with courtesy bonafide frayed jockstraps
suddenly pops, crackles and snaps

in my body whereby sanity doth caps
eyes, that mashing monster aside,
ye ken count me mandate
fiend in Southeastern Pennsylvania
look no further then bleached lovely bones
formerly missus (sob...sob...sob...)
who thankfully no longer zaps.

Thus allowing, enabling,
and providing yours truly,
not ordinarily unruly
a bachelor Matthew Scott,
(but never known as Dani Boy) duly
available as coolie
cooking up house special wooly
mammoth and side order of tabouli.

Copyright © Matthew Harris

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Book: Shattered Sighs