Figurative paralysis laid waste body electric of mine

This is Spinal tap
bamboozling, binding, bleeding, bombing...

ripped from every dog eared

and book marked page
recounting latest ill fated fiasco,

now peppering my life and hard times

causing quite an ache – fiercely teasing

(the fire cat) curative panaceas

sans almond sunset, chamomile,
Osage Tea for the Tillerman.

 

I tell myself Yukon try
grabbing at straws

with all your might to no avail

even enlisting Strain gauge

in tandem donning

common cents equipage

with a bunch of bootlegged banshees

freed from their cage

and as last ditch resort

drafting electric eels.

 

Yours truly as shock absorber quite astute

accompanied by Jack and the Giant

beanstalk golems to boot

or lion eye zing tiger

(perhaps named Tony,

mean to the bone, but...oh so cute,

who dwells in a tony neighborhood),

swishing (Nike like) tail,

and held up ala playing the flute

an unseen hellacious, ferocious, atrocious

 

or outlandishly jowly, egregious beast,

who expelled offal asphyxiating
noxious, odious, pernicious, et cetra odor

from a moon unit sized Glute

yea, I could also allude

to some Monty Python flying dragon,

who gives nada hoot,

somehow remotely controlling
any errant cyber wayfaring day tripper
simultaneously while droning

sheepishly not to ram into ewe.

 

These high speed U-Haul trucks

combine all the above scenario,
to glean mental state of mine

aye know really sucks,

which gagging induces

the worst instance of reflux

making little rheum for ordinarily

phlegmatic ho hum (what me worry
Alfred E. Neuman

persona non grata) guy.

 

Sum total of available funds
(since being defrauded to the hilt)

to qualify for credit card,

would only feebly meet Karma
credit rating as risky business

approximating the quacking

of red hot inflamed ducks

(my apologies to PETA, Paul, Luke...),

they madly flap wings, yawping beaks,

visa vis masterfully discovered on par
with orange iz the new black
evidenced courtesy Wu Tang clan
in no way, shape, nor form

unrelated to que clucks clan.

Whew...only then
(after reviewing the situation)

panoply of mystical elements of breath aired
per millennia times two resonated

veritable pantheon of superstitions

fired imagination as catalyst

viz homo sapiens forehead

tugging simian beard,
whence bygone agents provocateurs
fueled tens of previous generations

bred Manichaeism credo,

a nebulous ethos sans early humanity

vetted dual chaired

spirit world wide web populated

with dominatrix Roman sol invictus

wrought fiery brimstone who dared
assert antiestablishmentarian dogma

got hounded to whit; the bowels

of hellish firmament most

and/or many feared,
they would be pitched headlong

into said purported fiendish furnace,
thus particular obeisance payed

to morays; any voracious

marine coastal eel of the family Muraenidae,

esp Muraena helena, marked

with brilliant patterns and colours.