Exhausted
from feeling
   reeling
peeling away my exoskeleton
of mossy vehemence

Disgusted
from festering
pestering bacteria
leeching my energy
depleting my senses

Desensitized
towards romance
no chance
for me
Sinking
in a swamp
instead of grasping
for relief

Ashamed
for allowing
disavowing
natural instincts
Crying
   dying
internally invaded
by poisonous neglect
  Suicide
by choking on
your spoken words
I kept

Desensitized by the sands of time
I'm abhorred you're a cultural cog
Bobbing on the surface
you find eating gulls disgusting
but don't bat an eye at nauseous oil slicks

I wish I could set it all ablaze
so we'd pick our destinies more carefully
Or more care freely

You see me as a motley mesh
Flesh covered by cloths from mismatched fads
Yet, you're a pretentious simian that's forgot our past
Just a gussied up grazer, disavowing discomfort
scoffing at any endeavor that isn't grass flavored

The chimers on the lawn are all robed outcasts
bellowing to the fodder eating fodder
the posh set the stalks to be mowed over
But for the justice of all the inside out bulls
leaving their wallets on the ground
the entrail fashion never catches on

Careful casting blessings in tongues not truly understood
It's said there is a serpent that entangles dragon's blood
And spitfire be a voice so loose with foolish finds
Looking towards inviting angels, but be the demons in disguise
Karmic value matters in existence past the alibis
So negligent some limbs behave upon the Tree of Life

Do you count the numbers or apply them?
Do the readings code the river stream?
Divine and simple too easy to believe
I'm starting to think that many will not in aeons, come to perceive
Regressing back into the caves
To fight the tigers with their blades

Spirit can always evolve, but beside the spirit remains an umbra
The serpent that binds  as the helix to merge with yours
Through the jungles in your mind and beneath your ocean's floor
Tempting to eliminate duality in disavowing ways
But comes the wave and overstep of the orchestra's score
Written by the master architect to arrest ophidian psyche force

Ability looked at the cards
For mercy with a silver eye.

Survival was not self-immolation.

No matter. No spirit.
No silence. No echo.
No piety. No touch,


An anesthetic to minimize shame
Anesthetic for temptation.
Anesthetic for the terror of wild abandon.

Ability bled delicately, red to silver the moon's translation as cold as ever.

His dignity long misunderstood, vague until now. She his witness and detached accomplice.

Ability swallowed his bile and licked his lips as it stung his insides, appropriating the mannerism of the stone prince, vigilant of the ever presence. Stiff upper lip, a  gaze cold. Dead.
Ability was not born an orphan. He adapted this persona in memory of They who molested his sincerity and are still walking free among the living, feeding from the corals of truth. Innocence and good will as innate a pleasure principle as the ignorance that abounds would be unlearned in a meticulous exercise of freedom, keen conversation and select divulgation of self. No more would a vampire ravage his inner whole unless absolute expulsion was the contract. Giving himself to vice completely, void of distraction and sacrifice. No longer able to cope with his solitary confinement he tiij ti sealing every possible entry, every capillary that might one day offend. Today, dry of want, need, desire, in a perverted disillusion, content in the agony of unlearning helplessness the noble intention of needing nothing from anyone the prudence of minimal human contact the virtue of knowing god from man and the insistence of the free to differentiate the two.

Superiority was a given for Ability as innate as the goodwill, innocence, and ignorance that preceded his testimony to the moon. As indifferent to everyone else as mankind's general ignorance of god. As insignificant as god's indifference of man. As inconsequential as Ability and his devotion to man. A man. A priest.

Ability tended every nuisance. Choice. Taste. Expectation. Desire. He did not quite digest the simplicity of an ideal that was now the enemy- the ideal of taking humanity seriously. Ability, in wonderful lysergic incantation feared these suspicions to be true.  A belief no longer internalized by Ability the Free who now came to understand this bastion of truth: the longest repressed offense mechanism: mankind is alone and has only itself to blame.

Ability's innocent sincerity was ignored, forsaken by he who was dead inside. Ability would bury him as a god only to watch him resuscitate as a mortal. Only then would ability look him- the medic, priest, doctor- in the eye. After disavowing his first and second testament. Ability nailed to his forehead the very first commandment: that of self-preservation.

Ability was divorcing doctrine from totality. Romance from self. Wearing his best clothes, washing his face and feet for the volition to go it alone until death. Roaming strangely the terrain and rivers of Planet Earth, a planet who like himself was almost conquered by Cruel Mankind, Ability realized he had come before the Priest. Ability no longer imitated the passion of the Christ. He laid down his cross. He began his own manifest. For salvation, redemption, and freedom. No longer at the worship of his own tomb, he swallowed his own seed and took his life.

Equality and the Golden One

Wrote with her hand
scribed a desire so  primal
inside all of us

A union formed of prose
describing an Anthem
a value, reason

without number disavowing
a collective will.
Men are free, Ayn said

In turmoil  Equality and the Golden One
found the tunnel and electricity
and began again

our struggle.

(an almost lipogram)

It is missing!
Just as a lost paramour
or a forlorn suitor of a now hollow past,
causing a lack of all glamour.

My lass’s familiar touch hiding
astray in murky clouds of a dulling rainbow,
my writing turns to a wan pallid world
as I scour my mind to supplant this loss.

Assailing yon dragon with quill in hand
I spurn my awaiting angst,
stalking as Orion’s own conspirator
disavowing all doubts of my own ability.

Sallying forth I do not tarry.
Words assault a wall of lofty doubts
born of naught but a foolish phobia.
Scaling mighty ramparts,
my anima’s flight attacks a radiant moon.

Until, with a final onslaught
my thoughts find laconic catharsis.
As twilight’s shroud is found approaching,
with a concluding flourish of a now
worn writing tool,
my lost lass of misty pasts...

returns.

©  S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved

Don’t knock on my heart today, the shadows have won and I can’t find my way
to unlock the bolt and let you in to see, those vulnerabilities inside of me.

Don’t dial my love this year, its meandering, lost; forever, I fear
Wandering loose as it mocks my hurt soul, laughing in jest as it goes for a stroll.

Don’t reach for my hand anymore, it remembers the pain of the skin that you tore
Carefully scheming the timing just right; pretending to love as you sliced with the knife

Don’t look in the depth of my eyes, I’m far too aggrieved to show what I hide
You smile disavowing that things are all wrong; content to ignore and continue on.

Don’t lie in my ears I plead, it’s been too many times and my trust won’t accede.
A prevaricator’s psyche is one to abhor; my worlds upside-down, and the ceilings the floor.

Don’t knock on my heart today, the distance of “us” is too far way,

Priorities matter, you laid yours in line.  “Congratulations” I cry,
you achieve what you work for in time.

Wandering, disavowing eyes might enhance a face's beauty, but the invisible heart's ceaseless efforts truly portray the soul's mysterious existence.

Poetry is pretending

Tending tepid wounds
Before they can be found
Disavowing secrets
To which we're all bound

Inditing a dimension
In which one can hide
Casting an enchantment
To bewitch our jagged tides

In and out
Wreck and reject
Prying off nails from nameless coffins
Bearing forgotten respect

Speak your mind
Teach it a language
Show that it's a maze
with complexity unbested

Insanity's a sage
Fear, a selfish shepherd
Dreams are lily seeds
Reality, a bristled ****

Tear, singe
Break, bring
Touch, cringe
Climb, cling
Hope, sing

Poetry is pretending
We only show what's written

“The whole work of man really seems to consist in nothing but proving to himself every minute that he is a man and not a piano key.”*

to O. F.

Maybe your soul is a kite right now
as I am writing on the kitchen table and
winter orchids are  earnestly blooming,
May you be peaceful in the final womb
Dostoyevsky wrote about you, the humble one -

There is a hole now in the shape of morning
I can't find you smelling pears anymore.
Only my eyes filled with dust over your casket
You hid your dreams so deep,
devouring oblivious dreams
She poisoned her milk and
that's how you learned to deny
all the streets you never went.
spring sun used to find you listening
to the solitude of trees, while the seasons were recycling your shyness.
Somehow you didn't notice the light slowly descending
into the green chaos, or just the old mundane hatred,
the embrace of a disavowing (d)evil.

- this poem could be full of the noisy blindness of life
of crushed dignity and helplessness
I want to find the right letters to write
only two impossible words: pure heart-

Farewell delicate soul,
You have died enough
.

My mind is an open palm, raised to the trees
avowing and disavowing the love of sunlight,
and translating fractured thoughts caught on the breeze like cottonwood seeds,
snatched by a hand in the air;
like the way we used to catch mosquitoes, and ended up with one one another's mingled blood crushed into the lines on our palms
and to be honest,
I didn't mind it so much.

I guess I wanted to reclaim something
I guess I wanted to take back a little of the life that was siphoned from us

I am sick of lifeblood being stolen and replaced with poison, and the anticoagulant that keeps it flowing long enough that we never know we've been bitten until it's gone, and carried away in someone's belly, where it melts into so many others inside their stomachs

It's so easy to let your heart get to racing, long enough that you don't know what's being taken from you. Like the first time I let a man take off my shirt in the back of his car; he used his hands  to show me where I could stand to be improved; carving another woman into the air,
and she would live there like a ghost for so many years.

Sometimes I still see her.

Sometimes I am afraid that I'll never know what it's like to feel safe in the eyes of a man.

But I always feel like that now; peeled clean, exposed, disrobed to the heels in front of everyone. And there are so many hands, creating ghosts for me to fear. I am afraid of being afraid to let anyone near me, especially since I welcome it so easily.

God help me.
God help us.

There is comfort in being crushed to one another;
our essences coalescing in our minds and open hands crashing together to catch the cottonwood memories, stinging before we know what’***** us.
There is comfort in being bled together, our grief being wed together, and being folded into one another in the bellies of sleepless nights.

God help us
There is nothing I can do except feel numb next to you.
God help us,
There is nothing I can do except feel alive in pain next to you.

My mind is an open palm, raised in a question,
Translating fractured thoughts,
Caught between us.

Too intimidated by my mind
I am of well divine
don't worry, I haven't even reached my prime
so, still, time is of the essence,
just don't forget about my presence.


Remember that I have been where you are
been through what you have
felt what you have felt
and seen what you have seen.
don't pretend to leave those things unseen.
don't be ignorant
be resolvent,
try and be solvent.


Dissolve and degrade the disavowing  mentality
and start on your reality.


I am only here for a few,
so let's bathe in blue
for I am true
and nothing and everything will be new.


please, do not be intimidated
for I only wish to be emancipated.


I want to feel
just as much as you do,
I want to see
just as much as you do,
I want to hear
just as much as you do,
I want to be thee,
just as much as you do.


so please do no be afraid of intimidation,
because I'm just your imagination.
                                        (m.s]

Imagine;
behold a glorious luminescence;
a radiance without equal;
an opulence of which still Eros
could have only dreamt.

Coalesce;
be encased in a provocative warmth
of indefinable bearing and scope;
beseeching the sacred
while disavowing the profane.

Awaken;
greet the day
through a dichotomous portal
with burden pulling one way
and aspiration drawing another.

Strive;
endeavor to find consequence
in a world whose noisy hands
(some set in "smiley" faces)
steer us toward the precipice
while we grasp forever but for an instant.

Spent in terms of patience as excesses , now, abound
Common law and jurisprudence are now no longer sound.
Tribal rule runs rampant in the steel belt of the West
Where raging Trumpists violate, seemingly absolved from arrest.
Democrats wring their hands and bleat, aloud, foul play
Republicans roar with gleeful mirth and veto every say.
The Fat Cats of the oil game rub their hands with glee
With the cost of fuel escalating, to ruinous heights, for thee.
Catastrophic global floods and wildfires rage at large
Fueled by rampant climate change, unchecked now in its charge,
Political expediency, bold power lust and greed
Depict man’s abdication of remedial actions need…
Like Nero we all laugh and fiddle, shrug and fail to learn
Ignoring the collapse as our darling Planet burns.

Russia kills and maims and rapes and bellows it’s demands
Disavowing war crimes as the blood flows from their hands,
Rule book’s out the window, she holds the world at bay
With overt nuclear threatening optimizing Putin’s play.
Regardless of the outcome, Russia is condemned
For the next 10,000 years she will mirror ******’s trend.
Ukraine will arise again, Ukraine shall be secure
But the global condemnation Russia suffers…SHALL ENDURE!

Unlike other nations, China’s plan is long
They map out their objectives in a 500 year old song,
Patience is their virtue, diligence their strength
And little on this planet will deter their competence.
The populace supports their totalitarian regime
And their ascension to Superpower status, is uncompromisingly supreme.
Commercially a powerhouse, with military might
And an ambition to conquer the whole world, as of right.
China’s tentacles reach out through mantles of trade
Extending worldwide in a vast networking blade
USA, Africa, Europe and the East
With a recently conquering infiltrated feast
In thrusting South to the Pacifica Islands, ensnared,
Rendering, startled, fortress Australia, scared
With New Zealand aghast, dithering hither and thither
Leaving them ideologically and economically, ridiculously aquiver??
China weaves her long term fat, greedy spider web
Described, perhaps,as Plumish Pink… than rather Hellish Red!

The voice in the wilderness, howling it’s concern
Roaring it’s objection to the fact WE NEVER LEARN,
Mistakes remade repeatedly, Mankind outstays his hand
At the risk of phased obsequiousness….The timer’s running out of sand!
And time is of the essence here and courage is the key
But the combination’s lethal with our WEAK MENTALITY.
It only takes one tiny phrase, an insult out of place
And that offended nuclear nation suddenly plays their hidden ace….
India and Pakistan, Iran, the Middle East,
North Korea and potentially a remilitarized Japan, may join the feast?
The rampant insecurity found right now across the globe
Shall guarantee a reaction, which is likely to explode.
The cataclysm shall erupt….. WE SHALL CEASE TO BE!!
….Then the rat and the cockroach shall own eternity!


M.
The Voice in the Wilderness
In New Zealand, aquiver.
15 August 2022

She hated lewd offers
but thought, as she fled rationality

"Taboo and Transgression reflect two contradictory urges"

there is a deficiency
a feeling as if
dormice gnawed on her tender heart
unthreading her very being

"The taboo would forbid
the transgression but the fascination compels it"

in the old school
fearless foul mouthed men
with granite shoulders and hero's chests
knew how to take a woman

"Please Master"
Please master can I touch your cheek
please master can I kneel at your feet

yet she would lose herself
caring for nothing but
the spilling
of her clitoral jeweled incandescence
into kingdom come

mystery woman
with a **** in hand
plays the piccolo
in a hot swing band

out of the question
was dissolute lust
its quivering equivocations
of undoing and redoing
in a torment of feeling,
as if blood thirsty
disavowing, yet starved for love
like a cry of the void

her throat  
a spiral armed galaxy
her heart and ****
hounded moons*

the feminist

She hated lewd offers
but thought, as she fled rationality
there is a deficiency 
a feeling as if
dormice gnawed on her tender heart
unthreading her very being

in the old school
fearless foul mouthed men
with big shoulders and hero's chests
new how to take a woman
so she would lose herself
caring for nothing but
spilling her
clitoral incandescence
into kingdom come

out of the question
was dissolute lust
its quivering equivocations
of undoing and redoing
in a torment of feeling,
as if blood thirsty
disavowing, yet starved for love
like a cry of the void

the feminist

And all the Rainbows on my bed
with their colorful tunes full of laughter
and those gateway suns of her's
Couldn t wipe out
The shadows that lay in my head

All the italian spring on my time
pools of rain and pain for fools that make her laugh and cry
were for both of us
but the premices of our dawn
and the silver worth losing
Down the golden road

oh smile at my window
Reflects swearing up the block
Of stolen nights, in mindless chimes
Purple evenings, with your face in my haze
My smokes before my eyes
Hid that tenderness under my threadbare hands
that couldn t give and wait, weep and break
boy, don t you dare asking what you never gave
Tell me sweet faced girl, which step did i miss, on the staircase of your love

(the sound of footsteps in my memory.
wipe the dust of memories off your shoes!
...silence at my doorstep...)




They locked smile into smile
And time ran the soft chain around their wrists
them that could not stir a single sigh from past
and who with clenched teeth looked back in wonder
palms aimless, aimlessly reaching for the sun that never falls, but neither stays
On bitter pillows they laid each night,
From prayer to blasphemy they racked

And painted blue eyes black,
For the requiem

Parchment throats that breath but to burn
Glitter eyes under the makeup of lies
Alcohol hands rising through their mightlessness
And sweet, sweet heart that cries but no one...

O girls of the west, your windy laughter
Is it made for the leaves of my youth?
Do you remember her when you remind me of her face?
blended though pure, serene traits of whoredom cavalcade your dances
The fall in its glory, throw myself golden limp
On velvet flesh billowing, clawed, teeth gnawed, throw myself broken beast rampaging
wrecking and wracking through your hours of shadiness, through your shades of impudor...

Gorgeous...

Fling your tongue, snake in tasty waters
Pierce my heart, bass drum to your beat
Red harbour of my lust, scorned love
for scared trials, and scared fingers
Red harbour of my lust, oooh
The time is drawing close
can t you feel when the night pursues
That sometimes when the light is right
And it agrees w the dark, the dark w the shade, and the shade w the sound and the sound w the blood
and the blood w the fruit
and the fruit w the seed
and the seed w the brain
and the mind w it
and the mind w the pride
and the pride w the strength
and the strength w the taste
anf the taste w the girl
and the girl w the night
if the night pursues, when all and all agree together, the night pursues alone
Can t you feel then. You are a god.

"Gorgeous, I am a god"
"But are you mine?" shimmer smirk, that me eye caught. -Shall I get closer-arm to waist, close...closer
Mocking pout, disavowing tighs,
her eyes fell inside for the beat
Catch it back that twinkle in the air boy
Closer...
I got your eyes back gorgeous.
Questions lash
"I am a god"
kindling sigh
Sugar sigh
Surrender sigh

Gorgeous...
Thats when the whip comes in,
"I am a god" thinkst thou no more
Thats when the whip comes in, and wait for the great fleet to anchor... "anchor..." said she,
Red harbour of my lust...
in the ****** of your charms I stole my deity, silver goddess you re truly, get back, get back on your knee
Plead and plead, ablaze beat
Tide to tide, swirling heat
Burn for burns, licking seat
My's in my's... amor's bead
Rolling tenderly down her back

Gorgeous...
where shall I stop?
And where should I?

Lost to be found, every little girl want to be
Broken to be one, every little girl want to be
Yours to be her, every lil girl want to be

Presents the following slapdash
higglety-pigglety bupkis, whereby reader
experiences being mentally hogtied
perusing pseudo poetic perambulation
devoid of sense and sensibility
welcoming character assassination
concerning pride of yours truly,
who merely strung together
words sharing "arian"

as their last five letters
for no particular rhyme nor reason
quite aware that forced gobbledygook
underwrites storied reputation
of unnamed aspiring author
cramming nonsense linkedin
jibber-jabber hodgepodge fashion
deplorable basketed mumbo jumbo
giving pop slop a run for its' money.

Yours truly considers himself
(courtesy obsessive compulsive fixation
with alphabetization even when dreaming
counting sheep jumping
over figurative fence by first name)
drawn toward being abecedarian,
albeit hankers being agrarian, yet
I consider myself suburban simian
(a garden variety **** sapiens)
no more significant than alcyonarian

expressing his antiauthoritarian,
intolerance toward antiegalitarian,
antihumanitarian, antilibertarian,
agog over antiquarian tomes
replete with antitotalitarian manifesto
buzzfeeding ma (zee papa's)
sixty plus shades of gray,
cuz hive got news for you
courtesy doxy me, a generic erudite apiarian,
non-aquarian, once mighty araucarian,

(when during Jurassic and Cretaceous periods
our family achieved maximum diversity
distributed across almost entire
webbed wide world), nevertheless
one humble wordsmith
decries authoritarian, barbarian, Cesarean
segmentation of rooted centenarian elders
strongly resembling cnidarians,
who foster communitarian, contrarian
culinarian, disciplinarian,

disestablishmentarianism
decrees expatiating dogmatic,
emphatic, idealistic duly strict ethos
incorporating freedom of the press
documentarian, egalitarian
establishmentarian, filarian favoring fruitarian
disavowing jump/kickstaring futilitarian endeavors
administering grammarian, hereditarian,
questioning humanitarian
versus inegalitarian paradigms

celebrating progressive legislation
courtesy coterie as Democratic jubilarian
attributing insights to sustenance
comprising Diet of Worms
and laminarian, which boosts rock ribbed
lapidarian, libertarian, librarian lunarian,
who dons gay apparel and trumpets
majoritarian fly in the ointment milarian
espousing millenarian credo,
whereby absent free will necessitarian

forces at large effect staid
senior citizens, especially nonagenarian,
advocating nonauthoritarian, bookish nonlibrarian
nonsectarian, nontotalitarian, nonutilitarian,
beefy nonutilitarian, nonvegetarian,
and octogenarian brethren,
begat in part courtesy
ovarian haploid gamete,
which offspring could trend toward
ovolactovegetarian maybe collecting

parian ware adornments
pricey merchandise afforded
courtesy parliamentarian income
sessions conducted (without resistance),
whereby officials closely resemble
blood ******* planarian ceaselessly
patting each other
(and themselves) on the back
congratulating exulting,
gushing ala Old Faithful platitudinarian

attributing their foibles to postlapsarian
forebears awaiting salvation postmillenarian
bags already packed eagerly awaiting
deliverance into seventh heaven
as promised by divine predestinarian
a time analogous to virtuous age
of innocence re: prelapsarian
or lost souls peopling congress
and house of representatives
purportedly official do bidding

for proletarian class of population
once upon bajillion years
in the past initial life forms
similar to radiolarian
propelled themselves thru primordial sea
after lapse of eons diverse riparian organisms
with nary a hint of vocations such as
rosarian, sanitarian, sectarian seminarian
dedicated worker still going strong
as septuagenarian, or sexagenarian.

Living in an alternate universe
Ignoring pop culture
By choice
Searching and seeking another reality
Another voice
Unaware of mainstream hyperbole
Disdaining ideology
Disavowing hypocrisy
Technology
Longing for another era
Through socio-anthropology
Fearing the fate of society
Civilization
The human condition
And the disappearance
Of humanity
Portable souls in cell phones
Replacing perception
The golden age of the written word
Reduced to a hundred and forty characters
Life condensed to a text message
Social interaction forsaken
For a higher score of tech magic
Leaving the alternate universe
The only hope
Of sanity

I feel honored, and flattered to acquaint myself (a married youthful looking sexagenarian solitudinarian from southeastern Montgomery County, Pennsylvania), yet feel awkward at jump/kick starting a rapport.

Literate lettered latitudinarian looms larger than life

Presents the following slapdash
higglety-pigglety bupkis, whereby reader
experiences being mentally hogtied
perusing pseudo poetic perambulation
devoid of sense and sensibility
welcoming character assassination
concerning pride and prejudice
of yours truly (me),
who merely strung together
words sharing "arian"

as their last five letters
for no particular rhyme nor reason
quite aware that forced gobbledygook
underwrites storied reputation
of unnamed aspiring author
cramming nonsense linkedin
jibber-jabber hodgepodge fashion
deplorable basketed mumbo jumbo
giving pop slop a run for its' money.

Yours truly (me) considers himself
(courtesy obsessive compulsive fixation
with alphabetization even when dreaming
counting sheep jumping
over figurative fence by first name)
drawn toward being abecedarian,
albeit hankers being agrarian,
yet I consider myself suburban simian
(a garden variety **** sapiens)
no more significant than alcyonarian

expressing his antiauthoritarian,
intolerance toward antiegalitarian,
antihumanitarian, antilibertarian,
agog over antiquarian tomes replete
with antitotalitarian manifesto buzzfeeding
ma (zee papa's) sixty plus shades of gray,
cuz hive got news for you
courtesy me, a generic erudite apiarian,
non-aquarian, once mighty araucarian,
(when during Jurassic
and Cretaceous periods

our family achieved maximum diversity
distributed across almost entire
webbed wide world), nevertheless
one humble wordsmith
decries authoritarian, barbarian, Cesarean
segmentation of rooted centenarian elders
strongly resembling cnidarians,
who foster communitarian, contrarian
culinarian, disciplinarian,
disestablishmentarianism

decrees expatiating dogmatic,
emphatic, idealistic duly strict ethos
incorporating freedom of the press
documentarian, egalitarian
establishmentarian, filarian favoring fruitarian
disavowing jump/kickstaring futilitarian endeavors
administering grammarian, hereditarian,
questioning humanitarian
versus inegalitarian paradigms
celebrating progressive legislation

courtesy coterie as Democratic jubilarian
attributing insights to sustenance
comprising Diet of Worms
and laminarian, which boosts rock ribbed
lapidarian, libertarian, librarian lunarian,
who dons gay apparel and trumpets
majoritarian fly in the ointment milarian
espousing millenarian credo,
whereby absent free will necessitarian
forces at large effect staid

senior citizens, especially nonagenarian,
advocating nonauthoritarian, bookish nonlibrarian
nonsectarian, nontotalitarian, nonutilitarian,
beefy nonutilitarian, nonvegetarian,
and octogenarian brethren,
begat in part courtesy
ovarian haploid gamete,
which offspring could trend toward
ovolactovegetarian maybe collecting
parian ware adornments

pricey merchandise afforded
courtesy parliamentarian income
sessions conducted (without resistance),
whereby officials closely resemble
blood ******* planarian ceaselessly
patting each other
(and themselves) on the back
congratulating exulting, gushing
ala Old Faithful platitudinarian
attributing their foibles to postlapsarian

forebears awaiting salvation postmillenarian
bags already packed eagerly
awaiting deliverance into seventh heaven
as promised by divine
predestinarian time analogous
to virtuous age of innocence
re: prelapsarian or lost souls peopling congress
and house of representatives
purportedly official do bidding
for proletarian class of population

once upon bajillion years
in the past initial life forms
similar to radiolarian
propelled themselves thru primordial sea
after lapse of eons diverse riparian organisms
with nary a hint of vocations
such as rosarian, sanitarian, sectarian
seminarian dedicated worker
still going strong
as septuagenarian, or sexagenarian.

adieu from one:
solitudinarian sublibrarian totalitarian trinitarian
turbellarian uniformitarian unitarian utilitarian
valetudinarian pseudo vegetarian veterinarian
and vulgarian zoantharian.