Ordinary married sexagenarian mortal fêted as savior incarnate...

poet2rhyme4tommorrow

Courtesy a plethora of marriageable females
dogging, hounding, and lowing the living daylights

forcing yours truly to go undercover and into hiding
within the heart of darkness
at a remote undisclosed location in Perkiomen Valley

changing my name, rank and serial number
to protect what little remaining innocence
(analogous from the salvaged wreckage
of the Edmund Fitzgerald,
an American Great Lakes freighter
that sank in Lake Superior
during a storm on November 10, 1975,
with the loss of the entire crew of 29 men),
whereat nearly thirty year old anniversary,
since yours truly pledged his troth
wedded bliss severely
put thru the paces
as I get bombarded from text after text

compliments of celebrated barenaked ladies
brazenly showing me
their anatomical wares
mostly augmented breasts and tuckus,

and asking me to do likewise,

but "No way Jose" emphatically stated

falling on deaf (emoji symbolized) ears
no not mine but the young thangs
invariably seeking a gold digger
versus literally avowing
to be dirt poor substitute,
yet honest to goodness
writer of these words
possesses heart of gold
(cue Neil Young song lyrics,

and his song by the same name),

who values decency, honesty, literacy, poetry...,

and much prefers intelligent conversation,
(whether with himself or a receptive ear)

versus poised to experience a lucky strike
romping (think Rumspringa - a time
when young people
can explore their identity
and decide if they want
to join the Amish) church
kick/jump starting, enmeshing

when all along the reason without rhyme
I accepted friend requests
from Facebook (Meta) Messenger
constituted an ambition to foster
(not just a child of mine),
but intelligent conversation
linkedin to the cares and concerns
of an uncertain world,
at which point tis only to divulge
an inconvenient truth
with earth in the balance
regarding this rare breed (me),
that he considers himself
(YES free and clear
without any inhibitions)
a liberal democrat
now prone to temper his fulminations
toward the Republican party in general
and demagogues in particular
reserving vitriol lest yours truly
finds strong arm of the law
rapping on my door,
and if any pipe dream
could be brought into fruition,
that wish upon a star
would be relocating, hightailing,
emigrating to Canada or returning

to my boyhood home

just south across the border

into the heartland

of Norwegian bachelorhood

videlicet Lake Woebegone

as the next best choice,

the little town that time forgot,

and the years could not improve,

but dearth of financial resources

disallows any remote likelihood

for yours truly and the wife

to pack up our troubles

in our old kit-bag,

thus I will hunker down

for the next four years
bestowing divine faith healing;
jimmying, lording (no pun),
raising the roof of churches,
albeit damaged since the Great Flood,
and Noah way will I abandon
figurative house of mankind,
whereat the flock of lost tribes
aimlessly wander in the wilderness
after their experience as crash test dummy
bailing out from fiery B-52s
found their fear of flying unshaken.

  • Author: poet2rhyme4tommorrow (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 11th, 2025 10:51
  • Category: Humor
  • Views: 8
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Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Times have changed and one has to adapt. A fun poem about keeping one's sanity in an insane world.

  • Poetic Licence

    Have we gone mad or has the world gone mad, enjoyed the read



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