Poem -

Only when yours truly busies himself...

Only when yours truly busies himself...

Feigning to emulate NON GMO
garden variety English major oh just so
ho-hum, this ousted son and cingular bro
biological byproduct of papa's yoyo

after mama taut Peppy how to grow
big and become vein, her issuing blow
by blow stroke, thence pecker
imitated fountainhead

unleashing at apropos
time outburst analogous when an arrow
loosed from archer's bow
shooting off about hip height mo'

than bajillion microscopic
one celled lil longfellow
(Oh Henry...! wad art thou doing?)
just hmm... giving mutual sin O

Job whelp... subsequently
little squirt begot
sole son this all because sticky clot
hit bullseye right on the dot

nope, no where near size of ergot
spore, yet radiating
burning temperature more hot than...,
liquified gold prior

bitta bing bitta bang forged into ingot,
now just little more about fertilized
ova, I wanna jot
potential pluperfect parasite (me)

acquired, cultivated, fashioned...
one after another deft bon mot
while in utero until umbilical cord
severed than christened newborn tot.

Now fast forward blaw blaw blaw
when I began to clamor and claw
nope, cuz I ne'er learned how to draw,
the least significant genetic flaw,
cue laugh track and prerecorded guffaw
similar to popular nineteen
seventies television hee haw

laughter muted upon meeting
battle axe mother in law
another story... genre mccaw braw,
she excelled spewing vitriol out her maw,
thence I slowly must heard,
mixed metaphors and mastered...pshaw

modesty keeps me from bragging
yea - boot as a non sequitur
non secretor, yukon call me
the word wrangler outlaw
lo never cussing out anybody,
I can more easily whip out pistol

if captive audience
critiques mein arcane saw
jeering (matt speak feeble attempt
at wordplay - i.e. soldiering)
receiving affirmative nod
courtesy none other
than quick draw mcgraw

now ye butter listen (er... read) up
and don't blather and beast not shtupp
to conquer, when ya hear bit ching pup
that maybe be yipping faux ruse
to empty pocket inner empty cup.

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Poem -

As a submissive and passive...

As a submissive and passive lad...

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like a breath of fresh air...

like a breath of fresh air...

and all things considered,
broadcast on national public radio
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at long last peace in the...

at long last peace in the hallway and lasting truce declared

as guns of b23 got silenced
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