Year: 
2018

While constipation kept me in arrears,
asper daily writing,
thus ordinarily straight forward
practiced process culling material,

(a daily endeavor generally mastered
by your truly), this moment bares
with more difficulty, thus derriere's
functionality created backlog

(of personal business),
hence presenting literary chops,
a real bummer today,
disgruntlement with Fanny Pack,

(which gripe flares
cheeks) pitted me considerably
behind schedule, so...here's
the scoop (hoop fully solid explanation

for my absence) amidst
virtual chattering class
otherwise known as Face booking,
Instagramming, and Whatsapp

pin with ma Jeers
zee Boyz'n the hood,
ah...also dem "Back Street Boys"
oh mother f***er...,

I just learned day got eliminated
and blocked, (cuz o' their wiped out,
wasted, sunken,
flushed, dumpy untidily

bowled over appearances),
Sargeant Scott Coreless forced their
evacuation citing Lumineers
as more ass toot,

hence the emcee then welcomed,
opening dreck "Johnny On The Spot,"
and the "The Proctologists,"
who performed before nares

Naked Lady sighted spectators, with
lovers spooning within cheeky pairs
otherwise, essentially a pooped out crowd
sitting on their haunches,

while myself perched
some distance away
with my comfortably numb tuckus
atop the porcelain Goddess

a awaiting emetic to expel
for iCloud to finish updating
before continuing with sign out...
from this Macbook Pro,

which aye sheepishly pro state
as the long winded soup peer
re: or (flatulence riddled) explanation.

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