an ore din aery glum mwm

me? 

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nor a king kung foo fighting beastie boy z to men, 
a member of the blue oyster cult public enemy butta...
   but juiced an all american generic ass
with lil erection caw zing balls o brass
which iron maiden phallic satchel gives me heft n crass.

e'en if yar name not bess

i confess
2 like the music videos of eminem, 
   whose wrathful lyrics exude 
   clash hing bottled up vintage emotions - just my guess

whose fame n fortune of his 
   came by whey noahspur asian to impress
r rises from this imaginary dragon more or less.

this scrivener dons his couture from
   yard sales versus the gap
and culture from books perched on his lap
he doth does judge, 
   no matter where on the Cartesian map

an edenic/ idyllic tropical island ideal place 2 nap
as i ca hump this smear of pap
aware that we could the live right around the corner
   or countless miles from each other, 

   yet, the touch of a key allows, 
   enables and provides the means
   2 send the first or umpteenth poetic/prosaic rap
perhaps ye all will b moost poo lite n bring out the virtual strap
to subtly discourage me 2 write subsequent rubbish, 
   which n knee obscure or prestigious editor would zap.

sure life could be worse
than experiencing unpleasant attempts at friendship,
   where some online strangers (EXCLUDING U) 
   can be quite terse
than nada uno red cent in me wallet like purse

getting stuck with a malevolent nurse
bumping along 
   (while juiced barely alive) in a hearse
i.e. no longer alive, 

   though this chap feels does curse
him, as if fate dislikes him i.e. 
   as something despicable and averse.

pardon ma lapse into gibberish
but....ur email took me by pleasant surprise, 
   ah mebbe u heard r read telepathically me silent wish.

with d's eyes of soy-lent green 
wide shut (while i imagine dragons spiky bodies they preen
2 guard thee than discuss ma illusory odyssey) 
4 ur an uncrowned potential queen.
 
   imaginary drag gone prick
   can juiced barely see within 
   my third eye blind those beautiful breasts 

hew may titillate and think this stranger jests
boot ma'am, the bosom = sacred place whar lips nests
so cull ling that sweet nectar like on this pollen quests.