The Mhs Class Of 77 Poem by matthew harris

The Mhs Class Of 77



Re: Thank You to unknown
tom, dick, harry, tam, dame,
or dana from the MHS Class of 77,
though this alum
experiences public education
within lower providence jurisdiction

as a bum
er - minimally partaking advantage
of extra-curricular,
collegiate, inter-mural,
et cetera opportunities,

no not even a figurative crum
well nigh convey an impression of being dumb
bull door, deaf, and blind (with out faith no more) ,

nor passing love notes from
some anonymous girl, who
(after leaving a teasing message
informed asper getting a smart haircut

in ninth grade civics class
taught by Missus Comly
(do not quote me on my
power fully pointed excel lent spelling,
telling nothing, when out of desperation
I experience primal yelling)
this singular potential fledgling flirtation,

the extent from student,
who appeared morose and rather glum
exposing such vulnerability to be hum
millie hated, and bullied relentlessly,

whereat i wish to be a little boy
comforted by me mum
since that option out of the question,
thus aye didst never meet Miss Mot Toe
(e plumbs e num) , perhaps cuz eye whiz numb

body, mind and spirit triage as if inebriated by rum
imagining the fighting spirit within me to thumb
or rather "flip the bird" to those,
this then anxiety prone

metaphorically rolling stone
whose metaphorical diet of worms also included
eating picked over sun bleached
un beak coming road kill crow - how yum

me does that seem, but gnome hatter
how grossly said foul dish
spurred via carrion (an analogy
representing verbal taunting

best left for hitch cocked birds)didst not appeal
not in the least did i give nasty brutes a "what for",
twas fear of getting creamed, fricasseed, irradiated...

sans to stand proud and tall
(all five and a half feet, but blunted maximum height
topped off just shy of seventy inches -
in reference to yours truly)against bullies

to this very day such emotional repercussions congeal
asper anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic...,
which physiological symptoms served psyche not to feel
and only of late (particularly with daily intake of about
a half doe zen pharmacological prescription medications

do check and induce schizoid personality disorder
(the diagnosis encompassing,
the gamut mental health issues)to heel
akin to a well trained service dog, which fractured

psychological state i.e. garrison to pitch and toss
upon the precarious tipping point i.e.
surpassing the tipping point,
where thy body electric doth keel,

which precarious state finds me socially awkward,
and off kilter, and maybe this chap
ought to take a page
from professional athletes playbook,
and take a knee qua to kneel

hence this improvisational explanation
why yours truly felt discombobulated
to attend the recently held reunion,
now aye wanna axe something serious, and fur real,

which essentially constitutes whether
a current list of 1977 students,
who received their high school diploma
could be sent to me, whereby at least one alumni
could buffer end this contemplative, intuitive,
and pence eave guttersnipe wannabe with zeal.

hie haint gonna hold ma breath,
neither let loose lips help miss ink moll itty bitty sinker agog
nor wait fir any religious chief such as allah
boot nothing ventured...blah...blah...blog...blog...

The Mhs Class Of 77
Thursday, November 16, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: failure,procrastination
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success