Mine mean Lothario days left me in a confused daze...

as if being a crash test dummy survivor

after a led zeppelin collided with yours truly,

a foo fighting beastie boy (George) talking head

found me in a comatose state

subsequently wishing I joined the grateful dead

upon suffering severe godsmack,

but thankfully rescued courtesy barenaked lady.

Weeks and months later

following intense physical therapy

being released from intensive care

and just on the cusp of resuming

I received my walking papers

as chief garbage taster,

which found me down in the dumps.

Fast forward (analogous to fast cars

believe me you, I espied a Fleetwood mac

racing on the information superhighway)

to the present, where I count my lucky stars

no police pulled me over

most likely because this defensive driver

went airborne as wings

(at the speed of sound),

where reo speedwagon avoided traffic

but unexpectedly needed

to dodge b-52's flying helter skelter.

Upon waking up early

on an September Autumn like day

serenity prevailed here

within the one bedroom apartment

cramped with the eight years worth

of cumulative belongings

mostly furnished courtesy

fellow tenants possessions

(the wife owns a reputation

any and all various and sundry

unwanted property from residents

who move out of this joint

here at Highland Manor Apartments,

or surviving family members

of a recently deceased occupant

automatically bequeathed

to her majesty

she will lug unwanted items

to Goodwill, Liberty,

or Worthwhile thrift store -

keeping for herself

whatever strikes her fancy),

or actually retrieving

functional material goods

dumped at the corral,

and ofttimes atop

a pile of rubbish inside the dumpster.

Though amiable dynamics,

the wife and yours truly

get along swimmingly

(in this dive - ha),

which rapport of former antagonism -

about equal to the half-life

of being legally wedded

once analogous to a war zone),

whereat even peacekeepers

linkedin to the United Nations

abandoned hope mainly

on account of one philanderer -

meaning the author of these words

spent an inordinate number of hours

posting and/or answering

personal classified advertisements

catering to the unflagging libidinal longings

of yours truly unsuspected by the wife,

who believed my terse explanation

that Mister Harris meeting -

actually a blind date,

you go figure -

merely to take a spot of tea

or coffee with a veritable stranger

of the female persuasion,

which thy spouse eventually discovered

visa vis lie videre licet licentious libertine

the *hit hit the fan

after the figurative lid got blown

subsequently consentaneously, instantaneously

simultaneously liaisons with other women

fomented rupture, that after countless years

left an indelible impact on the psyches

of me mate and two daughters,

who long since flew the coop

relegating estrangement

to foreign corners of soul asylum

never witnessing repair.

Though once upon a time

I winced with tears for fears

at the first born considered "daddy's girl"

propelling either offspring on the swing

(their hands tightly

clutched on the chains),

I never tired heaving them

into a soundcloud

watching them disappear

into wuthering heights

losing their religion

and investing their trust in me

NOT to push them with such force

they would end up

on the dark side of the moon

thus now those then little girls

likened to goo goo dolls,

whereat infrequent reunions

finds their papa (me)

feeling like a foreigner

analogous to how Dorothy,

a resident of the prairies of Kansas

before the tornado

swept her away to the Land of Oz in toto.