matthew scott harris : Writing

Procreation essentially endows the species of Homo sapiens immortality...,

Procreation essentially endows the species of Homo..

A Poem by matthew scott harris


the enclosed poem deals with hunger in various and sundry disk guises.
Black Friday easel lee brushed off...

Black Friday easel lee brushed off...

A Poem by matthew scott harris


call me bah humbug, but i find the frenzy of holiday nothing but pandemonium.
Don't be snood dee, but wattle you think about Thanksgiving gobbledygook?

Don't be snood dee, but wattle you think about Tha..

A Poem by matthew scott harris


a humorous take on Thanksgiving Holiday.
Nelly why...

Nelly why...

A Poem by matthew scott harris


a budding online friendship whereat the female in question professes unrequited love.
Amply funneling kickstarting politesse undergirds zyzygy

Amply funneling kickstarting politesse undergirds ..

A Poem by matthew scott harris


the deterioration of manners, especially since the most recent commander in chief got elected.
Rebellious nonestablishmentarian Pennsylvania Yankee...

Rebellious nonestablishmentarian Pennsylvania Yank..

A Poem by matthew scott harris


submissive and introvertedness hallmark characteristics of yours truly, who quietly bucks against the boundaries, albeit arbitrary what declares accep..
Hair envy to the max

Hair envy to the max

A Poem by matthew scott harris


though not bald, but sometimes balled up into a scrunched up animal, i fancy a full blown afro, and envy persons of color gifted with so luscious a st..
Funny cover letter accompanied with equally outlandish résumé

Funny cover letter accompanied with equally outlan..

A Poem by matthew scott harris


an overly wordy confection that no employer would take precious energy and time to read.
The woosel c**k so black of hue

The woosel c**k so black of hue

A Poem by matthew scott harris


totally tubular zeusian playful wordplay, that i crafted some years ago, but merely tweaked for greater satisfaction.
I could never imagine...

I could never imagine...

A Poem by matthew scott harris


what in the name of tom hill.../bickering like kindergartners whether jack or jill/ should man the pail foisting the task...and who should man the mil..