True "FAKE" Story Of A Vita Man Junky

(any resemblance between this poem,
and living persons...iz purely coincidental.)

Ruthlessly abuzz in my mind
loosed another idea
for a poem asper
(wren) this wordsmith

first awoke as if this burr
bull ling gray matter of mine cur
rage Hesse lee
nearly figuratively drowned

awash with psychedelic fur,
and by an inexplicable fate
while holed up
like an atheist fox in

metaphorical imaginary Alsace
Lorraine booth them
aye hands needed to brace
against being whip lashed

compromising meat, who
cut to the chase
hurriedly beef hoar
twittering black crows didst erase

finding yours truly short shrift head
aghast count tin ants
(marching one by one hoorah...)
etching mortality against

(hill reed) duff
figurative staring in face
o' mine, yet with chutzpah, fortitude,
and intrepid amazing grace

did man age with the likes
of one named Horace
aye trumpeted (while donning
sateen pink “i hate gull

hubble buoys” frilly lace)
to quickly (in
quasi Jackson Pollock)
slap dash nod duh

soundcloud issued munitions along
Somme hum battle
creek King Kong a mace
swing change of

good fortune did
(Patton Lee) didst
Rob Zombie place
pitting (and/or pitying)

a critical (Weeknd updated) race
against father time hood
handily did trace,
what appeared tubby my bloom

ming dog gone cat tis strophic
(through-composed) doom
suddenly by quirk
of poetic license

of Matthew Scott Harris
did suddenly groom
salvation when suddenly out of
the thick (smoky intermittently clear

mountain) thin air
(Ta DaVinci) Vita man arrived
juiced in the nick
(knack paddy whack...a mole)

of mere minutes to spare,
whence immediately after veer
really gulping, (nee
emptying) a multi year

supply - downing entire contents lear
rook hilly visibly rippling trachea
(tricky ya) ying ma ha ha
esophagus of pill furred

(courtesy of peristalsis)
essential (placebo) body
mineral nutriments dare
ring (ala Popeye

The Sailor Man)
dozen plus bottled
blithely ignoring skull and
cross bones (bier) beware,

when instantaneously
muscles bulged nsync
as nostril didst flair
visa discover ring how

whipping, shaking, and
lashing my wet hair
(actually no Chuck -
wag'n - Norse lie)

my meth thud used to dry
sham pooed thinning mane -
jar - yea...yea...go head 'n jeer
at this peculiarity of mine

e'en if bald, aye would boldly,
(sans this creature
of habit) shake pate
gnome hatter how queer!