Poem -

Don't ask me about apartment unit b44

Don't ask me about apartment unit b44

here at Highland Manor Apartments,
cuz the place looks like a shambles,
hence to do justice to total disorder,
this poem (with very little effort) rambles
similar to other feeble attempts at literary grandeur
I rattle off a litany of prefatorial gobbledygook
cuz yours truly cannot abstain from preambles.

Housekeeping not a strong suit with the missus
when I tactfully reproach her, she hisses
pitifully born among generation of vipers
and ironically and interestingly enough
an avid fan of hoarders buried alive
competes with the seediest dive
despite her buzz feeding
fast and furious working nine to five
analogous to drones catering
to a queen bee within a hive,
and now I gracefully segue into
a honed knead (honied) non-sequitur
waited upon courtesy
(Life of) Carpenter bees:
These large, black, metallic carpenter bees
one of the more visible
and well-documented
species on the islands of the Maldives,
which specific species identified include
Xylocopa tenuiscapa, Xylocopa fenestrata,
Xylocopa pubescens, and Xylocopa ruficornis
and broader scientific classification
named the order Hymenoptera
and the superfamily Apoidea,
which includes more than 20,000 species
safely ensconced far and away,
where pedestrians ever so gingerly
side step as if suddenly overtaken
with the spirit of Fred Astaire and strive
to avoid said reverent species
and last but not least
to round out winged wonders
such as batman/woman,
who made a debut appearance
with one after another red zinger
including introducing
multiple meanings for zive
depending on the context,
most commonly referring
to the Slovak word for "lively"
or "live" (e.g., "živé" or "živý"),
but also appearing
as an archaic English form of "scythe"
and as a misspelling of "jive,"
which means to deceive
or talk nonsense so d'ya wanna zive
into a conversation with me?
Call mine harried styled
swiftly tailored experimental
poetic riffing what you will
linkedin discombobulation
belles-lettres thrill
a barred bard from being fêted
applying his well nigh quill
despite my being educated as nil
importance for cyber sea surfing
bona fide storied writers
analogous as much literary krill
tacitly accepting my existence,
but a nuisance viz hitted upon the mind
as pablum a little less crude,
but just as banal
as Jack and Jill going up a hill,
the author of these words
cutting himself down to size
turning stomach of appalled reader
the color eau-de-nil
a similar hue (more or less) as beryll.

Thank you kind anonymous reader
being a benign leader
and wasting your time and energy
as a pulp poem writer breeder.

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