B - R - E - A - K - I - N - G N - E - W - S! Poem by Matthew Harris

This just...in...
Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
Highland Manor mission control...
I reed you soft and vague...,
why...lace hymn ha shoes,
bless ma hush puppies tongue,
and save my unglued soul
lettuce be hoed - heal thee

bountiful cobbler skills,
and declare today
a salad day holiday,
yea..and please ex queues
me, but how boot we
even invite a troll,
the nastiest, meanest,
and leanest, and moost a muse

zing, (plus all three Bill
Goats Gruff - no kidding)
in order to celebrate
Matthew Scott Harris,
cuz he accomplished,
an ear raking impossible goal
only unscathed
with moderate injury

limited to both Achilles heal,
whereas his little duffed feet...
suffered toe till
black deckered bruise
according to emergency
medic Doctor Scholl
oh...no..., ..."crackling noise, "
the on call ambulance

just gave me more
devastating clues
he broke down in tears,
and whiz in con soul
able, no matter he scored
a victorious dues,
where matthew didst payless
than three dollars

at Liberty Thrift store
snagging snug as
a bug in a rug,
and perfect fit
ting akin to gloved hand
just like brand "new"
slightly pre worn sneakers
(big toenail graces

foremost edge) ,
yet the sorrowful downside
left size nine hole
in his heart, cuz final respect
paid during vespers service
and after open casket views
in somber regard to

battered, critically most
raggedy in the whole
world wide web,
those knockabout "sneaks"
tattered e'en nosed turned up,
sans Snoop doggy dog chews.