spurred by most recent therapy session
with Renee Cardone
whereby thematic thread
stitched how yours truly sewed
coping modus operandi,
viz avoiding emotionally volatile situations
courtesy mine trademark signature reactions
rather than be in compliance with expectations.
Said nonconformist passive rebelliousness
especially affected our eldest daughter
me and the missus begot
even when she became potential human,
which zygote quickly multiplied and divided,
and upon first blush
if blot of amalgamated undifferentiated cells
shown to botanist visible to the naked eye,
he/she would understandably, possibly,
and easily misconstrue specimen as ergot
housed whip smart Rorschach inkblot
sized being who expressed disdain NOT
be linkedin with me, her disheveled papa,
who underwent extensive cosmetic surgery
and rigorous physical training
to become taikonaut.
No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me very late (long deceased) mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(nsync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)
futilely escaped wrath of Harriet Khan
clamoring upon rooftop high
offering birds eye view
out of earshot and eyesight aye
catching sunbeams while smiling wry
cowardly lion sought divine intervention
courtesy sheltering sky
acres of shingles I sprawled
these lovely bones did lie
property of garden variety generic guy.
She who helped beget and birth
sole heir inheriting gamut of behavioral quirks
linkedin with many predecessors,
who trod, slunk, roamed...
across planet Earth.
Best bet said present day scribe i.e.
poetic, nonesstablishmentarian, liberal,
jesting, humble, freelance, dilatory bummer
whose hindsight evinced a student dumber
than his classmates wheedled
(as targeted scapegoat) by bullies their flummer
re: entrapped - worse louse than lice
internalized trauma left figurative tread marks
analogous to raging road runner
pressing accelerator pedal of hummer
driven by (an actual person)
one Roger Kummerer,
jogged me memory to recollect
if yours truly not mistaken
his older sibling Marsha
gave a preemie kitten to Amélie
mine eldest sister,
(whom she named Twinkles)
scores of decades in the past,
when our family lived on Lantern Lane.
Despite agonizing vicious tongue lashing
courtesy parents against their flesh and blood,
which venomous invisible whiplash
never petered out against
peckerhead son of a gun
(even when sundry bloke
got married and gladly left home)
abusive treatment markedly
left appalling, loathing and percolating
ambivalence if though mama passed away
(these last eighteen plus years) wrung
cash crop of poetic endeavors,
albeit resultant lackluster
literary crafted aspirations
many describing marginal existence.
Memory of mom overshadowed
by similar facsimile thereof
think shrieking banshee,
an indelible psychological imprimatur,
I strive to acknowledge
emotional reverberations to date
(June eighth, 2022).
My trademark wordsmith fashioned communiqué
impossible mission to shake off bittersweet feelings
toward once (former)
Arthur Murray dance instructor,
which fancy footwork synchronized with favorite
debonair handsome young fella (papa)
both flirts buoyant with elan and energy
only thru death will angst become free
interestingly enough hands will clap with glee,
cuz versatile wordsmith he
meaning this logophile will cease knee
dulling anonymous readers now me (Phil)
Anders heads off into the virtual blue beyond.