Ah Such A Great Night...

To Fish In The Cyber Sea

Always does this generic guy abhor
inflicting pain and suffering,
hence I haint n'er fished before,
and even metaphorically

referencing piscine creatures
(strictly as prosaic analogy),
aye reel lee deplore
causing deliberate suffering vehemently

contradicts my credo,
dogma, ethos, et cetera
within and/or without, the
webbed, wide world

this Homo sapien doth explore
and as an aspiring scrivener
(fraught with floor rid sweaty palms
even in the dead of winter

offer poems galore
already written alluding to the
unpleasant physiological hoar
rubble sensation of dripping

(nee sopping) wet hands,
a curse that follows me indoor
or out, thus no surprise,
an aversion to mingle,

no matter socialization even jure
re: duty with defendant
whereat, me complicit sharing
Matthew Scott Harris namesake

accused of outrageously unreasonable
po' wet tick rhyming scheme
(but nonguilty exemption status
decreed since accused ache'n to yours truly

receives social security disability)
would be a more welcome palliative
versus less wick
Kurd substitute then Cap' kanger

rue, and ameliorate self imposed
sole lit aery isolation and
on the flip (Wilson) side keeping
streets safe, cuz temptation

dust newt not lure
me into a life of crime) more
or less chuckling,
that profuse perspiration,

would be mon nor
matt heave, while
accomplices fall down
laughing in tears,

and thence the poor
seer suckers nabbed
(cautionary fruitless
canter berry tale), and
(whew) not sullying
only whetting my
steely slippery rapport.