Ah Such A Great Night...

To Fish In The Cyber Sea

Always does this generic guy abhor

inflicting pain and suffering,

hence I haint n'er fished before,

and even metaphorically

referencing piscine creatures

(strictly as prosaic analogy),

aye reel lee deplore

causing deliberate suffering vehemently

contradicts my credo,

dogma, ethos, et cetera

within and/or without, the

webbed, wide world

this Homo sapien doth explore

and as an aspiring scrivener

(fraught with floor rid sweaty palms

even in the dead of winter

offer poems galore

already written alluding to the

unpleasant physiological hoar

rubble sensation of dripping

(nee sopping) wet hands,

a curse that follows me indoor

or out, thus no surprise,

an aversion to mingle,

no matter socialization even jure

re: duty with defendant

whereat, me complicit sharing

Matthew Scott Harris namesake

accused of outrageously unreasonable

po' wet tick rhyming scheme

(but nonguilty exemption status

decreed since accused ache'n to yours truly

receives social security disability)

would be a more welcome palliative

versus less wick

Kurd substitute then Cap' kanger

rue, and ameliorate self imposed

sole lit aery isolation and

on the flip (Wilson) side keeping

streets safe, cuz temptation

dust newt not lure

me into a life of crime) more

or less chuckling,

that profuse perspiration,

would be mon nor

matt heave, while

accomplices fall down

laughing in tears,

and thence the poor

seer suckers nabbed

(cautionary fruitless

canter berry tale), and

(whew) not sullying

only whetting my

steely slippery rapport.