I relished being hungry for Thanksgiving pop slop gloppy grub

whereby the missus didst potchke
created whirling dervish hubbub

after enjoying repast,
(fit for a tarnished king),
yours truly able, eager, and ready
to soak my ego freezing carcass in a hot tub.

 

Hmm... on second thought

lemme apprise others

on the verge against starving themselves,
(nor exposing their lovely bones
to a$$ biting temperatures)

rather I beg, enjoin, invoke...

potential dying skeletal selves

amidst anorexic club
(about fifty years ago yours truly
evinced existence as hunger artist)

 

until rib cage protruded taut and visible

doubling as drum to drub

synchronized within heart of darkness,

especially when electrocardiogram exhibited

absolute zero vital sign,

cardiac arrest translated

as cessation to lub dub,

hence yours truly
declared dead as doornail,

coroner report deemed arrhythmia

directly indeed linkedin

 

to deliberate paranoid Machiavellian flub

courtesy the missus attempted to poison me
(courtesy arse cynic no – not really)

actually aborted cuz nanobots
loosed upon body

gripped with rigor mortis,

a minor inconvenient truth

with earthling in balance,

cuz odorless and tasteless deadly toxins

rendered me convalescing

from bout with death, an oxymoronic

former slenderman gourmand.

 

Woke word wizard temporarily deceased
(stunting body, mind and soul)

until said microscopic robots

avidly analogous to frenzied
figuratively hogtied pigs

buzzfeeding at a trough
creating porcine hubbub

invisible nanoids (0.1-10 micrometres)

accomplished programmed task,

whereby fatal microbes they did scrub
away leaving me fit as a fiddle.

 

No matter she thoroughly, painstakingly

and lovingly didst strew

haphazardly she threw

leftovers righteously together,

this unseasonably warm

November twenty fourth figuratively view

wing the remaining thirty plus days

of two thousand twenty two

thoroughly cooked in microwave until...

poor excuse for my meal appeared

with consistency of shoe leather.

 

Think the missus not afraid

of Virginia Woolf keen to experiment

treating me like the Gingerbread Hag would:

questionable resultant glop pantomimed

for my guessing pleasure

never figure out in bajillion years

as amateurish Marcel Marceau charade

performance courtesy the spouse,

 

an entrée she gave - yours truly

immediately sought to evade

me subsequently evincing

horrific puckered mealy mouth

as though I swallowed hand grenade

figurative exploding oral cavity

feeble futile gesticulation inveighed.

 

Thus, methinks himself wise

to don cooking apron

please do not ask why

trumpeting self as master chef boyardee

so move over wife and allow husband to try

his hand (using skill - let) me prepare Thai
and/or other Asian cuisine dish,

cuz when free to potschke

 

(To fuss or "mess around"

inefficiently and inexpertly), I haint shy

to blend (indiscriminately) ingredients

ofttimes yours truly barley able to ply

boiling water since significant other

does not give this garden variety

and generic, gimlet eyed

gourmandizing guilt free

Earth friendly gumption goaded guy
an even handed doodling Yankee a try,
who offtimes asks why.

 

Every so often yours truly
tries to stave off appetite for consumption

regarding chomping down

unrecognizable fried object

gets so hungry, he could eat a horse

(yours truly jest kidding hoof course)

truth be told, I only eat one meal per day

all day from son up to son down, me a force

tubby reckoned with,

who if he gives way to vice

event chew wooly

(mammouth) experiences remorse.

 

Hum glad to share
mine reasonably rhyming hook

twenty six letters linkedin amidst

various combinations, formations, permutations,...

allows, enables, and provides a look

into the mindscape of Matthew Scott Harris

doth show himself with steely dangling

nonsense without pride nor prejudice,

nor sense and sensibility he forsook.