Poem -

A magnet for tsuris

A magnet for tsuris

Summation notation of achievements
wrought absolute zero
pridefulness to self -
a veritable highstrong yoyo
(lame at walking the dog)
a solitudinarian devoid of xoxo
methinks (writer of these words)
Hebrew a legacy of woe
courtesy self apathy
expanding across his mein kampf
on a broader scale
analogous to predicted fallout from Project 2025,
where resultant mayhem
will trigger widespread societal upheaval
upending progressive socialism
videre licet flick of the wrist veto
where democracy writhes vis a vis death throw
signature of forty seventh president
of the United States,
the septuagenarian who trumpets hegemony,
and dons hat of dictator carte blanche
a caricature of a contortionist
trotting out dog and pony show
the former a growling
super gnasher tooth flasher
(actual name of a book title
written by Daniel Pinkwater
and featured on Reading Rainbow
Episode 8 in Season 7
and originally aired on March 28, 1990),
which year a tad less than my half-life ago
when this "Froggie Went a Courtin'"
an amphibious embarkation
whereat yours truly pitched hither and yon,
to and fro within a tempestuous relationship
with the then girlfriend
who visited me at 324 Level Road
(the vestige of Glen Elm Estate
whittled down to about a half dozen acres
with trace of formal gardens
long since reclaimed by mother nature
as overgrown woodland)
my boyhood domicile,
but became a permanent fixture
within the Harris household
constantly assailing me
to pledge my troth
after we already
consummated consensual coitus
aptly enough at the
Evansburg Park residence of Steve Cummings
(principally prompted with reckless abandon
by unsheathed phallus)
intercourse occurred countless times,
though devoid of mutual (of Omaha)
fundamental orgasmic prolongation
courtesy hair trigger minute man of mine,
which got fired
from his miniscule silo
discovering seminal virility sometime
around mid March of nineteen ninety six
when we became ensnared in the parent trap
on a freaky Friday - the ides of March
where we bickered over
what to name the unborn child
gender revealed at ultrasound
during the second trimester,
typically between eighteen
and twenty two weeks of pregnancy,
but by the second trimester,
the baby's genitals are developed enough
for the sonographer
to identify the sex with reasonable certainty,
which bouncing baby girl
set the wife on buying sprees
at upscale thrift stores within environs
around 2700 Elroy Avenue Hatfield,
which afforded a grand view
of a meat processing plant
the first apartment complex
we moved into after pledging our troth
yours truly designated as a forerunner
to quasi proto doordash
heavily patronizing Boston Market
temporarily escaping vocalizing future star student
who also tested her pipes
when we settled down to sleep
all three of us crammed upon a crib mattress
keeping the bedroom door closed
a minor inconvenience
against an undeterred plague of water bugs,
whose population kept in check
by sprinkling borax powder
underneath sink, where they throve
within the warm and damp plumbing fixtures.
 

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