though many men,
(especially former Norwegian
bachelor farmers from Lake Woebegone, -
but one presently wedded
to another female for not quite
thirty orbitz around Mister sun) seek a booty call
compliments of Facebook (Meta) Messenger
yours truly (me - a married Neanderthal -
who just learned how
to walk erect this morning)
does fumfer and forestall
profusely groveling
and figuratively backpedaling
when upbraided, interrogated,
and accused of spouting doublespeak
subsequently, I consider hiring a translator
courtesy my awkward
circumlocutious attempt to inthrall,
which gobbledygook more harrowing
than a maelstrom approaching landfall
orchestrated and synchronized
with the right hand man
of divine creator
( à la Matthew Scott Harris)
in tandem with countless gods/goddesses,
who mentored said oddball,
how to control meteorological phenomena
which his granted special powers
(alluded to in at least one previous poem)
if you may recall
which series of unfortunate events
only Lemony Snicket can uninstall
all said and done, he seeks
only platonic relationships
with intelligent and witty women
ideally to learn him
how to speak and write
social media platform jargon
clichéd words understood
and accepted as trite
versus his trademark
cumbersome debilitating, excruciating,
and brow furrowing endeavors
for anonymous readers
to tax their brain cells
essentially expostulations
against unspoken conformity quite,
but most of me threescore and six years
accruing non-establishmentarian, nonsectarian,
and and nonvegetarian linguistic constructs
formulated along the edge of night,
where dark shadows obscure a knight
in tarnished armor
just back from the twilight zone
pulls himself to full, albeit average height
of approximately seventy inches,
which unimpressive stature doth not excite,
but what I lack in physique
genetics compensated me
with being humble and bright
thus with sincerity I apologize
to the wife, whose husband
engaging in his dirty deeds done dirt cheap
essentially cheating by texting and sexting,
and must figuratively nip in the bud
communicating electronically
with plethora of females
(many young enough to be his daughter)
before he gets himself deep
pressed into virtual shenanigans
with veritable strangers
out to delude, hoodwink,
one aggrieved sexagenarian
and piss poor student,
whose eldest daughter not surprisingly
exhibited honor roll intelligence
qualified her for giep
and lure already finding him a heap
now after telehealth
zoom session with psychologist keep
thwarts dissolution of fidelity,
a lesson once learned years ago
contemplating reverberations
of narcissistic actions,
hence self imposed pressure
sublimated into attention
to the missus and scratching
out thoughts from nooks
and crannies of noggin leap.
-
Author:
poet2rhyme4tommorrow (
Offline)
- Published: March 12th, 2025 14:57
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 10
Comments1
A fun read about something so popular. Thought provoking
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