What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About

Hmm...What Discursive Poetic Theme Shall I Write About... Today (a rather brisk, chilly, and otherwise sat tiss factory twirly delightful December 18th, 2018) matte her of fact quite refreshing noontime, while this fat tend plot of Earthen surveyed terrain situated over scat herd modest suburban tract, (actually yours truly some watt urbanely sprawled out) at Latitude: 40.2538 Longitude: 75.4590, where I sit pat and think to write about some reading material flat touring my "FAKE" status as king of agitprop for chat hurrying class gussied up with artistically crafted rat tilly done up snazzy razz mutt tazz (approved by Willard), this expat lapsed Peterson harried tailored script, asper previous peculiar swiftly styled idée fixe literary unnecessary, rat tickly tawdry superfluity) interspersed with dollops of splat hard logophile, nonetheless gentle on the eyes, yet feeling totally flat and devoid of meaning, and quite convincingly desperate idea this pratt tilling far amore in the dell doth expatiate, expound expressively, gnat cheerily witty, (i.e. hint- please pretend these humph fat tickle lee meandering, rambling, and warbling words) taxing on mental faculty as bat tan gruelling death march physically, when circa April 1942 Japanese forced 76,000 captured Filipinos, and Americans Allied soldiers to march about 80 miles across Bataan Peninsula (province in Philippines), where they died enroute to...during World War II on island of Luzon, espied as a spiritual sanctuary hosted by a knowledgeable tour guide named Matthew Scott hood dons genuine (musty smelling) Tory wig to hide as an alien alias (from the outer limits of the twilight zone) incognito even to himself, and especially the bride of Frankenstein, who evinces a strong crush toward said nondescript gentrified vested gentry groundless thinker with pride though, dirt poor (at least on the surface), but deep down rich with Schwenksville well watered history harkening back to 1684, when hoodwinked, jilted and lied Lenni-Lenape Indians got fleeced then taken for a ride this land ceded to (stolen from) William Penn nestled along the Perkiomen Creek.