Hub bomb bin hubble emotional wreckage
tell tale signs of internal war
ah, there moost be lifelong conspiracy
afoot for a Galician voar
try as I might to Lyft myself
out of penury...this Uber
scribe reckons way back when,
my life took a irrecoverable dee tour,
tis neither pity nor philanthropic succor
this poor man asks,
but just the chance to roar
(albeit within structures of silence)
shaky psychological scaffolding
built from shabby and poor
Scottish matted Harris tweed
material re: mailhouse order
(same as me bartered bride)
assembly required blueprints defied
comprehension, and thus...only my
into whoosh shin as singular guide,
which puzzling quandary sorely
tested frustration, I could not hide
overstressed mental cogs, and
wheels issued steam from inside
the bowels (ah... oh...
moving) within this, nor
thorn prickly human being, more
or less condemned to live
in this mancave, where folklore...
I don\'t believe that bupkis,
about some hoar
rubble, but...nonetheless,
yours truly unable to account
for this...friggin landmine miss fore
chin, where nuttin boot
this misanthrope jammed
in a hole like EEyore
moost all bajillion years living in the dark...
as if... yeah thrust in the core
of a black hole, thus
the best available
explanation given destiny did ride
me roughshod into the maw of despair,
now no matter these gnarled
arthritic hands unable to...
ugh...heave ho...grunt
purportedly nada so easy slide
anatomical pieces together
according to schematic
drawing, aye tried,
hence best this crabby hermit vied
to be condemned remaining separated
(since birth), sans
webbed world infinitely wide.