Month: March 2023

A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

ENJOY the mirror’s reproduction. What there stood as
SPOOF, we could bear, discern as truth: Our
NASTY nature, its grubbing drives, hasty casting off of every good.
DEALT at remove, we laugh. Yet, it’s the air we breathe, aloof.

It’s all connected!

DROLL. The twitch in my eye seems to be the result of the dentist grinding on my
MOLAR. (My grinder ground.)
OPTICally odd. How does that intermittent drilling
MARRY up with a continual twitching?       

Prufrock has Toothache

MOLAR pain. Prufrock, pondering again whether to propose, to
MARRY, but can’t think straight for pain. Will there be time enough? Or will time, a cat, slink away like coiling smoke into the night,
OPTIC trace decaying in the fading light? Pain, held at bay with
DROLL musings, unspoken to his peers. Pain, and droll, and fear: does the eternal Footman snicker as he passes?

Note: some (very) slender echoes of Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.

Root Canal

MOLAR more painful than yesterday? Maybe.
MARRY thoughts of dental torture with playing hooky,
OPTICs that no one will see through as my
DROLL dentist makes jokes about drilling into nerve endings.

Stranded 2

JUICE. His parched dreams are jumble of guava, berries, citrus.
SPRIG of negligible shrub, its fibrous leaves make for lunch.
FAITH in a rescue at times waxes, mostly wanes. He fantasizes simple fare:
PENNE pasta in an Arrabbiata sauce.

Note: this is continuing yesterday’s theme (see: https://dailyquordlepoem.com/2023/03/08/stranded/): a chef who somehow has gotten stranded on an atoll. Funny that today’s words lent themselves to extending mine from yesterday. These are among my more slender efforts, imo, but they demonstrate some of the serendipitous fun of DQP: happy accidents in the succession of words, even across days.