a brushstroke choreographing dramatic elegy framing harmonic gavotte

specified such so as to issue a rhyme,

but proceed as this scribe

doth git linkedin with the cutting crew

yet not the least whirlwind will offset

my b52 Hair style,

 

or hirsute shellacked beehive type do

no matter from what literary website,

an unsuspecting reader will accidentally stumble upon a ewe

fo' mystic impression wilt ache shape about myself

some accurate ledge gin dairy horsesense

about me will ensue,

especially if I sheepishly admitted,

 

this beastie boy iz a genuine foo

fighter toward this former stone temple pilot, wildly whizzing,

gurgling in age inappropriate burbling,

dribbling, flickr ring for a goo goo

doll to dare buffer end me, hub bee of piggish,

ham handed, bay kin a poetic slop hoo

might at this juncture succinctly cease reading

 

prior to putting finishing touches on ma igloo

when the remaining portion of this dippily goofy,

slippery when whet, trippy treacle G.I. Jew, who would, more aptly

 

coon sitter himself hub

horn hug ken atheist, boot knew

not a whit about Judaism,

nor any other belief paradigm,

 

yet does get fixated (usually in the loo)

about philosophical ideas, which yet to be revealed

abstract notion came to me, while enjoying a plateful of moo

goo gai pan, plus other Chinese food (a favorite cuisine),

now aye will try to new

dill back to the initial pretext found me drawing blanks

(no not shooting) – ooh

aah, this theme within guttersnipe noggin  more difficult to codify than one whiz

 

constipated and try'n might damn hard tip poo

anyway, the general premise alighted, and fired

mine gray matter cause a major cerebrum jam up

with sudden crackling star bursts forced

great mind over matter to set brainy bedlam in an organized queue

so while attention of your might be moderately rapt, this rue

stirring, hen pecked spouse best stop digitally squawking sew

the ethereal essence can beak cox comb brought to cypher awareness too

and in a figurative nutshell,

 

when doth a scrivener know when to quit

or tubby pointed rhetorical question -

at what juncture does any artisan

more prolific than yours truly

reckon that his/her faux masterpiece

 

can no longer be perfected?,

cuz further rit

dick kuel us tampering, potche ing, footsing,

would induce dedicated followers of mine

to undergo severe urge to wanna spit

 

or throw FAKE nipples,

subsequently they would feel tit

till late head, find this schlemiel

to end this plotz to whit!

 

FINIS.