Eden Liat Harris – I Praise

Twenty two years ago
December twenty second,
two thousand eighteen
"star student" born

this papa (and most
likely thee birth mother)
initially felt ecstatic,
dramatic (yes frenetic),

and careworn
as freshly minted parents,
but gifted with a daughter,
whose existence far

more precious
than any Earthborn
rare widgets, gewgaws,
gems, et cetera, despite

evoking unsolicited,
unpleasant, and
unmanageable forlorn
communication "dirt poor"

living (at least ten years
of wretchedness at 1148
Greentree Lane) unable
to toot our horn,

cuz unbearable, undesirable,
unforgettable, et cetera,
and manifold challenged ,
when beloved Shana

Punim evinced inborn
developmental delay,
(which severe electric
cool aid acid test

patience of this father),
much more difficult
than playing krummhorn,
now after tendering the trials

and tribulations, an
amalgamation of
poignant affects,
whereat your

permanent presence...
(must never NOT precede mine),
cuz..., I would definitely mourn,
your absence, thus felt the timely

opportunity to dash off
a birthday poem to you
in tandem with sharing,
(while comfortably numb

and figuratively licking war
torn psychological wombs) - torn
and ripped, queued,
peppered natty psyche

pockmarked with scorn
from self, (and those lives,
this dada immediately
impacted) particularly

your person roar'n
with cumulative anger toward
this insightful fellow,
(who claims to know

what thee feel toward me),
especially when porn
hours of valuable
time, now caught

(say, eh...approximately, fraught
upon the half life of rare Earth
element Eden), not
just strictly naught

heard thru the grapevine,
but forcing Math (hew)
analysis, via meditation, poetry
writing therapy, et cetera.
- - - - - - - - -
Hence...I apologize,
asper unasked for pain wrought
thee, sans being unemployed,
demeaning "mother Abby,"
bumbling, horrid house

keeper (Hagrid himself,
would turn down invitation),
plus Facebook fiasco,
imbroglio, and loco
motive - complicit in behavior
- - - - - - - - -
comparable to pedophile,
yet please let me conclude
by admitting total lack
of wherewithal.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAUGHTER!