What shaftments of ethereal transmorgification creates null avariceness and contentiosity? Is it moribund penile disenchantment, or uterian stressfulness from Orwellian gynecologiness?
Or is it a dichotominess of oral gratificationology pertaining to disenchantments stemming from abeyanceness to Doctor Spockian offspringing harmoniology and aversioness to Clauswitzian principalities of caustic effect?
No, my erstwhile bon vivants, it is corruptingness of the inner childology within our centrifugal holisticness, failuring to interfacing with ubiquitously prevalent selfishosity we all masticate bilaterally.

What disturbingly problematicness creates such anomalogous conundrumingly negative energies to schedule prime-time re-running anathamaness to soulbeing as Adam Sandlering and Beastmasterology Part Nine, being inflicted rectally, gonadically and viscerally on all asunder? Woe, great sufferingness!
Is it a consequentiality of mid-life crisesness among anal-retentively insecurial, testicularly genetical defectival homophobical man-child executive drones tap-dancing ahead of grim reapering?
No, my loving beings, it is the universal dopplerness of Einsteinian amalgams applied cart blanche to the subterranean idness of our egocentricness, an anathamaness to the anti-Euclidan chaos theory proposed by that guy in Jurassic Park who looks like Jeff Goldblum and is tall and wore glasses and has lots of teeth but not as many as the Tyrannasaurus Rex, and I don’t know why they ever named such an ugly reptile Rex in the first place, which means King in Latin which I know because I’m really smart, but apologizingly, I digressingly create redundantness like deja vuness once again, aw shit.

And Finally,( thanking God, the end is in sight, you say) -What masochisticness permeates the obtuse refusalness of humankind to open their ventricles and gluteus maximuses to the truthness of beautiosity and goodliness among fellow homos? Sapiens, I mean. You know that’s what I meant. Really.
Is it the attributes of the hybridness of a male ass and female horsinality known a muleamania, or the amalgamationess of geneological neanderthalism hereditarily coalescing down through millennia transmuted but still of plausible deniability through diminished corpuscularity?
Ah, not so, my perspicacious nadirs of intelligence, good taste and epitomes of malformationess. Instead, it is lackingness of Ghandiness and Richard Gereness and U2 Bononess and Chopraness, along with a dearth of divine interventionality. A surfeit of Jerr Springerness and Howard Sterness creating a pandemic of mundaneology and trailer trashnessability.

So, be looking hardly within your left aorta or somewhere deepening like that for the wellspring of humanitiness and other loving qualitology to be discovering wondermentality and magnanimosity toward all species, especially endangerednessful ones such as the Pollyannaites, who live just down the road from the Land of Oz, which is near Universal Studios where that Jewish guy, Stealburg hangs out and we will blissfully stand togetherly on some hill in Italy or some other European place and sing about how all the world loves Coca Cola, or if you prefer, Coke for short. Piece on you and good will hunting.

Author's Note: Not me in photo(just an average Californian out for a night on the town)and this is not really a poem, per se. This is actually a parody of work by another poet from India who floods the web with his love of flowery prose and himself, but has a slight problem with English, especially adverbial form. I didn't post this to be disrespectful of anyone else's work, uh, ------aw, hell, yes I did. I like to make fun of other writers like they do me, after all, it's a competitive business and I kinda like the low road sometimes. You meet more interesting people there.