Employment quest sought December 11th, 2021

Across cyberspace,
the following epistle
yours truly (me) doth lob
as the figurative pressure
tightens on the virtual knob,
I would moost certainly benefit
from a part time job
hence this rather goofy atypical reply
crafted (at initial
ten plus years ago date)
following reasonable rhyme written
then gingerly trying
to remove pesky Windows kernel32 dll
or blue screen of death errors
(oh... how so yesterday)
(while gently inhaling) from
imaginary hand carved corn cob
from whittling fingers
of one named, (albeit alias) Mister Bob.

Anyway, this aspiring writer dejure
shoe lee mastered his a, b, c's
though during test time
experienced nonfatal forgetfulness disease
all my learning seemed to freeze
oh and although the following
non-sequitur added comment
moost likely irrelevant
back in the day o me early boyhood,
I passed thru initiation rite of passion

sans tickling ivory keys
in addition to learning
about human species,
whose relatively recent ancestors
incorporates caveman
argh gew hob bully naked ape,
who exhibited death defying feats
analogous to acrobat
holding fast to trapeze
of mine swung from sturdy trees
only pausing long enough
to smoke cigar and wheeze.

Additionally, I cobble, dabble
and gabble with double entendres, nibble
and tinker with byte sized words
monosyllabic terms
like this or that
as my pedigreed intellectual toy
with an intent
to affect, invoke and joke
with intellectual ploy
opening mine mien,
whether unknown reader
counts her/himself among Jew or goy
ideally to be witness literary employ
and earn an income oh boy
netting gold anchor ahoy.

Rational wordsmith asks himself why
he habitually answers
in his poetic way per responding
posting defies conforming
to the established formality,
yet nonetheless asks
coon sitter a shun sans my reply
ideally couched
with an affirmative decision
no less than
twenty thumbs up well nigh
to be extended,

and offered a hand
for me to join this outfit
as another common
Jimmy Neutron to help ward off lions,
tigers and bears oh my
powder milk chomping
Joe Schmoe type noir guy
essentially a human combination fly,
whose nom de plume as newborn cry
himself to sleep baby
nearly exhausted dry tear ducts,
the muttering bard of Perkiomen Valley
sometimes used as ruff lee an alley bye.

from: Matthew Scott Harris,
who might find himself booted,
knowingly, longingly, and magically
transported to Paris.