Poetic nugget discovered today March 29th, 2021...

while rifling thru outdated electronic drafts,
whereby yours went back to our memorable past.

Circa 6/30/ 2017 - Lost missing master car key...
plus additional ordinary travails affecting me
such as near bankruptcy, eviction from glow
er emitting landlady per expiration of lease
(June thirtieth two thousand ‘lo
seventeen, infestation of cockroaches
(little ones that look kinda cute), poe
tent shul hazards viz malfunction
of electricity outlets in this kitchen slow
burn the psyche of this Bryn Mawr,
Pennsylvania tenant
renting all the while tiptoe
wing thru tool hips toward dropping
into abyss of poverty, the latest woe.

Whip-sawing mice elf and minnie mouse…
cheeses mother f**king fate
constitutes master set of automobile keys
to drive our 2009 Hyundai Sonata
went missing of late
which unasked for quandary
finds both thy missus and her mate
fraught with increased angst evidenced
by tension around temple of pate
which headaches rare for me, but genetics
blessed this chap with top rate
anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder,
panic attacks…social schizoid state
thus complementing my deprivation
from pounding migraine
akin to psychological battlefield tete a tete

with ability to function the casualty
of mortal kombat “war”
and fast loosing weight
do to physiological symptoms
re: nausea, palpitating heart, vertigo
barely contain via cocktail of medications,
which ordinarily ameliorate
aforementioned wracking symptoms,
that most definitely invite suicide as bait
rather than besieged vis a vis
inner maelstrom doth create
but death not readily agreeable to me,
cuz if escorted by grim reaper….
that would be the first and final date
though, Matthew Scott Harris
remains alive - mailer demons
viciously claw in an attempt to eviscerate
as descent of black crows,
(whose eyes widen
like black eye peas) and gravitate
to this wrecked vestige of
generic chap, who doth hate
above iterated series
of unfortunate events
(move over Lemony Snicket)
I tried to illuminate
aware that artistic pursuits
in one form or another
could be cathartic, fantastic,
intrinsic…magic, that could
somehow solve thee crisis,
which critical reliance on driving thine car,
a present topic de jure source
of irritation drive me to impersonate
convincingly in situ, a lunatic madman
fit to be tied or strapped

in straitjacket and duct taped mouth,
whereby arms and legs rapt
with attentive experimental scientists
intently observing
viciously jagged oscillations
of sinusoidal curves mapped
omnipotent bound by super strong

steel magnolia derived wires
fixed to mine numb skull held –
with chrome dome capped
upon mine head whereby electrodes
send shock waves so
for the present and immediate future,
I can be a zombie and adapt.
help me if you can hi yam feeling down....
(no longer relevant)
since every aforementioned line written,
cuz me and the spouse
long since left said town.