I Cannot Be Any Moar Pacific!

A welcome reprieve

against blistering hazy,

hot and humid

meteorological suffocating air

found me voluntarily

hermetically sealing myself

within a climate controlled

one bedroom apartment

this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania

(actually originally Lake

Woebegone) transplant

getting acclimated to the

summer weather in Zaire,

this country determined, sans

while "blindfolded," directed,

and guided while seated

in my state of the art bedchair,

hence such chance decision,

where yours truly,

would spend the following year

gunslinging, fellow

shipping, and engaging

with bountiful mutineers

while piloting corsair

outlandishly ludicrous, incredibly

flimsy, and carelessly

held together by wirehair

with an equally

ratty motley crue

forcing yours truly

to "FAKE" being debonair,

this (Baritone Horn playing)

privateer did veer

really did mark hood

lee did quickly

twain tubby chief engineer

accomplishing (as

resident poetic web stir)

re: alias Muddy

Waters ("Roger") unclear

breathing sigh of relief,

I did not go over with

my trademark mind boggling flair

to sow confusion

within the mindscape

of one or more readers

will cause him/

her to go thermonuclear

ready to choke, gas, or throttle me

as he/she doth glare

intimidating such prediction analogously

like Moby Dick reacting violently

when Cap'n Ahab thrust a spear!