7200
As long
term aspiring
gurgling (stream
of consciousness)
paperback writer,
there doth appear
an imponder
able quandary
most likely
experienced
by fellow
neophyte authors,
one pesky bugbear
that just dawned,
(within the mind
of this
former tony
MainLiner)
crystal clear,
i would bet mine
bottom dollar
and declare
unequivocally
established writers
mentally tussled
(or still do),
how to accrue
“Art of the book
writing deal”
contract sub
sequently endear
an increasing
number of people,
that definitely
feel drawn
to thy unique
flavonoid flair
with words
this scrivener displays,
where oft
times decrypting
(mine block chain)
dost jam
at least one
cerebral cog
and gear
no matter how
far away
from me,
this mind can
telepathically hear,
colorful epithets, thus
seriously consider
ring donning,
summoning,
and trumpeting
his swiftly tailored,
harried styled interlinear
difficult to
interpret ma
Bella cos
mean mien,
thus ready
(lock, stock
and barrel)
to ship me
on a one
way junketeer
attired in
a combination
all force he zen,
(and Caesar)
knitwear
and (thrift
special red
tag sale)
leisurewear
oh...preferably
gender neutral,
or specifically
frilly pink menswear
which could
be either
day or
nightwear
yet absolutely
non gaudily
outlandish
most unlike
thine convoluted
other worldly
unfairly
punishing stentorian
verb hose noun
sense sic cull
idiomatic ling
goo whist tricks
driven by a
harsh gram
matical taskmaster,
(nonetheless one
gentle non-
slavish overseer)
summoning positive
feedback
to reap peer
burgeoning
my popularity,
yet without
being queer
yule us, yes...
of course retaining rear
penchant
inventively steer
ring an un
suspecting reeder
agonizingly testing their
pay shunts, perhaps
inducing her/him
to race out
the door like
a mad person
clad with
(impeach 45)
underwear
calling for men/
women in
white coats
to lock up
Matthew Scott Harris
possibly commuting his
long runon
sentence tea
ching fellow
inmates without
ten year!
