On being emotionally bankrupt

Sentient beings distraught
psyche rent asunder
courtesy false accusations
heated words exchanged like gunfire
pox upon the house of Deborah Hunter,
a vicious vindictive
girlish looking septuagenarian woman
buzzfeeding unfounded conspiracy
that the missus steals packages
ever since we moved here
at Highland Manor Apartments

force core and seven years ago
July first two thousand and seventeen
thee wife accused
unfounded rumor circulated,
she brought in snakes
courtesy whom I hashtag snaggletooth
blind as a bat
mistook large make believe
as voracious very hungry,
albeit friendly stuffed caterpillars,

nevertheless possessing

an insatiable appetite
for rumor mongers

especially for bony thin

older bonnie lass

or similar facsimile thereof
such as a small number of tenants
housed here at above mentioned
low income low slung building
formerly an elementary school

repurposed many decades ago
into accommodations
mostly catering to senior citizens,
and/or those receiving
social security disability
the latter classification pertains
to yours truly,
a psychologically tuckered out
egalitarian, libertarian, nonsectarian,
sexagenarian, solitudinarian Unitarian

frazzled, grizzled,

and puzzled wordsmith
who knows not why the wife
singled out and bullied, hastled,
intimidated, and threatened

creating hostile living environment

impacting me
indirectly caught in the crosshairs

wishing upon a star

to acquire monetary resources

to hightail out of
insufferable toxic shock
system of the down

slipping into the behavioral sink

suffocating - impossible mission

to catch my breath
brainstorming for solution
while pitched upon
horns of a dilemma,
whereat I shout out

thru the corridors of time

calling Bull Moose and Rocky

my childhood fictitious cartoon heroes

to deliver salvation out the maws
of an untenable situation
threatening life and limb
hankering for life, liberty

and the pursuit

of happiness birthing
nirvana linkedin to soul asylum.