Poetic nugget discovered today March 29th, 2021...

while rifling thru outdated electronic drafts,

whereby yours truly (think time travel)

went back to our memorable past.

Circa 6/30/ 2017 - Lost missing master car key...

plus additional ordinary travails affecting me

such as near bankruptcy, eviction from glow
er emitting landlady per expiration of lease

(June thirtieth two thousand ‘lo
seventeen, infestation of cockroaches

(little ones that look kinda cute), poe

tent shul hazards viz malfunction

of electricity outlets in this kitchen slow
burn the psyche of this Bryn Mawr,

Pennsylvania tenant

renting all the while tiptoe
wing thru tool hips toward dropping

into abyss of poverty, the latest woe.

Whip-sawing mice elf and minnie mouse…
cheeses mother f**king fate
constitutes master set of automobile keys
to drive our 2009 Hyundai Sonata

went missing of late
which unasked for quandary

finds both thy missus and her mate
fraught with increased angst evidenced

by tension around temple of pate
which headaches rare for me, but genetics

blessed this chap with top rate

anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder,

panic attacks…social schizoid state

thus complementing my deprivation

from pounding migraine

akin to psychological battlefield tete a tete

with ability to function the casualty
of mortal kombat “war”

and fast loosing weight

do to physiological symptoms

re: nausea, palpitating heart, vertigo

barely contain via cocktail of medications,
which ordinarily ameliorate

aforementioned wracking symptoms,

that most definitely invite suicide as bait
rather than besieged vis a vis

inner maelstrom doth create
but death not readily agreeable to me,
cuz if escorted by grim reaper….

that would be the first and final date

though, Matthew Scott Harris

remains alive - mailer demons

viciously claw in an attempt to eviscerate

as descent of black crows,

(whose eyes widen
like black eye peas) and gravitate

to this wrecked vestige of

generic chap, who doth hate

above iterated series

of unfortunate events

(move over Lemony Snicket)

I tried to illuminate

aware that artistic pursuits

in one form or another
could be cathartic, fantastic,

intrinsic…magic, that could

somehow solve thee crisis,
which critical reliance on driving thine car,
a present topic de jure source

of irritation drive me to impersonate
convincingly in situ, a lunatic madman

fit to be tied or strapped

in straitjacket and duct taped mouth,

whereby arms and legs rapt
with attentive experimental scientists

intently observing

viciously jagged oscillations

of sinusoidal curves mapped
omnipotent bound by super strong

steel magnolia derived wires
fixed to mine numb skull held –

with chrome dome capped
upon mine head whereby electrodes

send shock waves so
for the present and immediate future,

I can be a zombie and adapt.

help me if you can hi yam feeling down....

(no longer relevant)
since every aforementioned line written,

cuz me and the spouse

long since left said town.