324 Level Road Poem by matthew harris

Addendum to title: Boyhood Digs in Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426

Oft times forced exposure therapy spelled rustling quiet
Pyrrhic punitive onslaughts noisome moody linkedin kicks
jarring inxs harbored grievances foo fighting essence
denoting cannibalized august boy aghast to confront reality

when returning home meant compromising autonomy
acceptable collateral casting leftist strides rite
constituting timid steps circumscribing childhoods' end,
comprising reluctant trudge treading toward adolescence
where wold wide webbed magic ride

rode ruff shod o'er carped hooked
synthetic threads re: fibrous veld
whence extolled impressive footprints
measured triangular wedges rung duff feet
expediently dragged churlish badinage afoot

stretching across Scottish tartan
Harris Tweed unwelcome matt despite frustrated parents
whose vitriol unleashed tough-love,
smacked regularly quasi planned
threatened ultimatums venomous viz witches

yawping against my brand
moot point asper falling out of good graces
from obliterated Glen Elm,
though hatching escape merely fanned
actions hightail me to bedroom, a secure space,
not exceptionally grand,

yet despite rapacious and relentless rage
against the sole son, who hand
did lee managed inciting wrath
of me papa and late mama,
this parcel of land, now entombs nostalgia

namely 324 level road, Collegeville,
Penna,19426 make believe pal Joey and this creator
passively succumbed to withstand
invisible Jet blue lobbing onslaught of slingshot barbs,

wharf fear to rely on self way past primetime,
which solo endeavor didst demand
absent belief, confidence and faith in innate survival skills,
hence countless admonitions recurred
razed quest qua pursed lips

those who begat their only male heir,
provoking predictable panned
da moan he hum in tandem
with concomitant wickedness akin to eland
caught in cross hairs getting pistol-whipped

with many barking explicit derogatory gerund formed
expletives, that did not dislodge this immobile body electric
defying logic, now in retrospect
clueless why I suffered to withstand
incessant verbal, venal, and n'er vampire weakened blows

inexplicable, how this soulful, ruminating,
and tortured walking wounded blithely weathered turpitude
though devoid of sense and sensibility, how no man iz an island
though at times incontinent, where jocund this bard for'er opened
Pandora's box, but hindsight softened cleft pride and prejudice

whereat bulldozed site of once grand "Glen Elm" tears me up inside
fading memories refreshed, via priceless gift
from beloved younger sister
unwittingly mitigated hammer blows of pain to confront the void,
whence away from obliterated complex edifice grief felt damned!