The fine art of making excuses

which achievement, deportment,

endorsement, and indictment

(more serious than rigging an election)

jump/kickstarts (a divine comedy of errors)

not reason enough

to be deported),

but necessitates more than a facile effort

linkedin to a working knowledge

of familial genetics ofttimes

discovering, revealing, and unearthing

locked up figurative ghosts in the closet,

and/or shocking insights

courtesy vis a vis mapping lineage

of descendents whose deferment

being proactive when deciding

with absolute zero or

very little shadow of a doubt

versus someone analogous

to yours truly (me),

who offtime fumferes concerning

the course of action one will

assertively, decidedly, and proactively take

and keep to their word,

whether the issue in question

rather classed as superficial,

I will iterate after writing

a particular for instance as follows.

When asked (courtesy the missus)

if I ever plan to use the new hair brush

purchased at CVS a short time after

getting substantial lovely locks clipped,

yours truly responded

"when my hair gets long again"

despite promising myself

that donning the guise

of a baby boomer

long haired pencil neck geek

got nipped in the bud,

but subsequently (hypocritically)

explaining to her

the necessity to practice making excuses

lest one forget the delicate art

to thwart due diligence

to maintain irresoluteness.

Whether avoiding taking

figurative bull by the horn stance,

(particularly risky business

if one happens to be

the matador enraging

a monster red eyed bull

by waving red cape

in front of said animal -

analogous to Ke-mo sah-bee)

or evading asking Bill Thurman,

a portly non ambulatory resident

here at Highland Manor,

(whose Tuxedo patterned therapy feline

one of the most common coat colors

for shelter kitties -

a bicolor also called piebald cat

with white fur combined

with fur of some other colour,

for example, solid black, tabby,

or colour pointed named Corbin

an affectionate loveable kitty,

who administers love bites),

who rightfully owes me five dollars

for asking me to clean his carpet,

but hate to remind said person,

cuz he promised to pay me,

and would rather

he square the marginal debt

(rather than triangulate him

by circling round the issue courtesy the missus)

of his own volition,

and thus resorted

to communicate with him telepathically,

and perchance a whim will prompt him

to leave a voice

and/or text message

gently coaxing poet of Perkiomen Valley (me)

to lend him a helping hand

such as withdrawing cash

from an ATM machine

or whisking boxes away

to be recycled or reused

at Liberty Thrift store or Worthwhile

offering perfect opportunity

to jog his memory nonchalantly.