Poem -

Who knew shredded paper...

alias confetti could be so much fun?

Who knew shredded paper...

The misses took play therapy (hive
urgently got to tell thee)
to whole nother level,
she smartly, expertly,
deftly... didst contrive
at my expense - (to late),

when paramedics did arrive
abusive deadly torture,
I did not survive,
when she (Frau Abby) five
feet tall minus one inch
lobbed bajillion pounds

(analogous to many
a swarming beehive),
no matter I took strategic dive
buried yours truly alive
moments before perishing,
heard her banshee

cackling, hooting, kickstarting...
dancing spot on jive,
nonetheless mere seconds
before my demise did arrive
manage to scrawl illegible
plea broadcast across

icloud expansive ethereal
euphemistic hard drive
though unsure if
timely help will arrive
to resuscitate and revive

praying immediate por favor
very limited options more
or less absolute zero before
death be not proud doth score,
sad fate, I cannot ignore
salvation amidst desperation

doth tide dully shore
bolster faith no more
toward humanity - generally a bore,
maybe comeuppance,... thus I deplore,
premature demise grim reaper doth adore
yet perchance bottled message

throughout cyber sea reaches poor
or fabled lands i.e.
Zanzibar, Timbuktu, Bangalore...,
no especial rhyme nor
reason zee afore

saith place names mentioned
except they came to fore
front of noggin of this schnorrer
realizing United States marine corps
may also beg tubby enlisted,

viz search and rescue operations
even intervention papal monsignor
please communicate asap with pope,
now I bid thee good bye bonjour
beetle browed troubadour.

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