The day after Christmas letdown when just a little boy

Upon reflecting with misty eyes

childhood days of yore

the mantle of anticipatory

excitement mantle I wore

upon advent of December

twenty fifth not quite threescore

years ago knew nothing

about being dirt poor

yours truly doggedly felt sense

of belonging among k9 korp

versus moody blues hangdog

look resembling Eeyore.

 

Now fast forward envisioning

gray bewhiskered scraggly

muttering old Unitarian

that would be yours truly courtesy

hyperbole as would be obvious

upon quick visual scan,

who dabbles writing

at least one poem within

twenty four hour

time frame i.e. quotidian

basis, eh not

so much an outdoorsman

these days and definitely not,

nor ever trumpeted

taps as militiaman

within the ranks of Kublai Khan

emperor of China, and

grandson of Genghis Khan

I remain holed up within

one bedroom apartment

unit b44 as iceman,

no, not by choice,

but series of unfortunate events

primarily faulty heater

at the mercy of fate,

a mere dice toss gameplan

always associated as separate

among establishmentarian

forever dreamily fancying

married to countrywoman,

combination platter academician.

Lo and behold days

mein kampf slipped and slid away

leaving faded memories

precious young lad oft times

felt alienated (think) castaway

yet simultaneously unable to flyaway

loosing self from mother's apron strings,

while slipping grip signals foray

into abyss conjured courtesy

thru information superhighway.

 

Reflection upon tempus fugit

incredulous kick arse lightspeed

precocious age sentimental reverie storybook

happy go lucky idyllic past indeed,

then bound by ignorance,

hence blissfulness no longer doth proceed.