Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose-like poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose-like poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Slow Down, Retard!

Don’t take offense. This will make sense. As I say, 
‘Retard’ is a verb, and it means ‘to delay’. 
Slow down! I have found that the sound of the word 
“Retard” has been guarded against, but that’s absurd. 

You’re going too fast, and this is your last warning!
So, before I go, please let me say, Good morning 
to you who may heed what you read here. In fact, 
once you’ve been retarded a while, please come back.
...

Entropic topics tend to be more 
caustic. Social faucets pour 
streaming data. Beaming faces 
space out here. Of all the places 
I could be, you see me clearly. 
As I write, you might well hear me 
say hooray! I'm glad you're listening, 
like as if your beams were glistening 
here where nearly no one comes, 
because I pause, and sound this dumb. 


I think you’d like my bike with wheels,
because ... [a pause] ... of how it feels 
upon your bum, like some big hand. 
When paused, you’ve cause for a kick stand. 

So, paused here and kicking not; 
withstanding blowing winds, again; 
demanding nothing more or less than stress, 
these provided syllables caress. 
Collided thoughts are brought to fruition
pending the ending of this writer's rending. 



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