Skip to main content
Year

must rob Peter to pay Paul.


On my figurative knees I crawl
careful not to pull
an egghead stunt Humpty Dumpty
and take a great fall
where all the king's men,
and all the king's horses
could not put
anthropocentric Humpty Dumpty
together again, especially
cause he experienced major contusions
and no matter he took
quite a zetz upon
the rock hard noggin,
and appeared to be himself
think of Phineas Gage (1823–1860)
an American railroad foreman
who famously survived
a traumatic brain injury in 1848,
when a 13-pound iron tamping rod
shot through his skull and brain
and while he recovered physically,
the damage to his frontal lobe
caused drastic personality changes,
marking his case as foundational
in neuroscience, particularly
regarding brain function and personality,
and in simple minded terms
his brains got scrambled,
which might affect his speech
with a yolk cull drawl
along a narrow edge of a high wall
where the Mountain King
beckons me into the hall where y'all
meaning other storybook
character hang out.

Current financial state
of mine most dire bleak
and desultory future
evidenced by rambling missive
to launch an aery mission
accompanied by bluegrass band
that plays suitable
music near cripple creek
sending me into a swoon,
to lament with
an exclamatory eek,
the best premature ejaculation
must appear as
an extraterrestrial freak
who never fit in
with the madding crowd
cause people hashtagged me
as a nerd and geek
now no time to be meek,
but don myself
as an assertive male,
and trumpet a bar no hold,
and hold no bars sneak peek
into the extroverted
doppelgänger of mine
whose courage courtesy
eating powder milk biscuits
gave him the courage to tweak
where cowards before him
classed as a royal ding-a-ling,
and thus quite urgent
for yours truly (me) be forthright
no matter most readers
would give diddly squat
about the author of these words.
and clearly "speak"
his mind, and
act un-convent-shin-null
pleading to the cosmic consciousness
to get me into a nunnery
where merciful sisters
where knees knock and get weak
prodding beseeching thee
to ask in plaintive tone
to ask for financial succor
cuz dire financial crisis
finds yours truly
going batty and meshuga
gentiles one and all
gangstalked here
at Highland Manor
where I feel trapped
like a ratt in a cage
how I can be blunt yet discreet
to present dire financial emergency
(if necessary emailing thee
current bank account status)
warrants jest playfully bolstering
unknown enemies of mine
who probably think me off my rocker
barely adequate funds
find this champion toilet clogger
and charges a pretty penny
to purchase giant size glute free turds
to pay monthly bills,
where thankful and grateful
social security disability inadequate
sends me into a tizzy
please do not consider me averse.

 

Poetry Reading
Rating
No votes yet