Poem -

the ides of march 2018

the ides of march 2018

ever since Homo Sapiens didst
insinuate, elbow and barge
humanity at the mercy sans, small, medium
(Strunk and White) elemental forces at large
which indiscriminate merciless whims extant

ask Homer Simpson or Marge
g'head and even tap
a local, county, or state Sarge
gent on the shoulder, cuz

he or she would moost likely agree
that this Month (predicated
on The Gregorian calendar me
didst axe Mister Google, 

   (who whiz courtesy enough prithee)
to validate premise about 
   when Time Construct came a boot re:
(named after Pope Gregory XIII, who 

   introduced it in October fifteen eighty two)
from that date to present, 
   the most widely ant queue
    test used civil calendar, and when brand new
(involved approximately 0.002% correction knew

   this margin of error in length 
   of Julian calendar year) allowing hue
man accurate measurement passage 
   as days, weeks, months...elapsed 

   unimportant to the average Joe
(not quite five hundred years ago) 
   returning home on his emu
no matter the gender named Matthew

cuz this flightless fast-running bird dinned,
poe whit lorry yet (wannabe) 
   nose tubby directed related door sill finned
dog gone harassed primate hoo haint sinned

graced with sir name Harris, 
   and gladly boasts being full of wind
which trivia finds this barred bard 
 (as iz his usual wont 
   i.e. digress sing 
   from primary col lord thread)

from initial intent, vis a vis, 
   how all life forms stretching 
   within the bounds of quisling
to an affable, convivial, and filial King
Crimson (reddit in the face), 

yet knew everything like kin ace
that comprised tome base 
comprise zing knowledge booking (to chase
winter blues) at getaway grace

fully at Bedrock Cave 
   with proprietors of said place 
Barney Rubble and Fred Flintstone 
   offered ample space
to discuss preparations to cope 
   with onset of infrequent roaring blizzard 
   (via ominous clouds that didst trace)

plus minimizing setbacks affecting 
   the then most advanced stone age 
during wrathful outbursts from beige
flesh toned gabbing Goddess, 

   whose gentle giantess goodness, 
   one could gauge
which genteel manners evident 
   also asper her page

gave inside information, 
   how to batten down hatches
   while tethered like a puppet 
   on the then much younger global stage. 
  

 

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author
Youssef

Wow. Loved it. Thanks for sharing.

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