TONAL, not toenail, you daft ‘apeth!
“CURVE your anger, Mr C, you’re not at home now. No
RAVEN at me all I’ll have to tell security
DECAL the police. We won’t like that, will we?”
Month: January 2024
Unpoemability
STUNG by thought that
THETA, strange word–is it really an English word?–worse than
PAPAL might make this poem impracticable.
VAUNT your inventive skills, yes, but some things won’t fly.
Pratfall
FREER than a giraffe splayed and stuck, (does a giraffe have a
NAVEL? I’m asking for a friend) I stand tall above riff-raff who
QUAIL at my height, as a bevy of quails look naff when fleeing, until SPLAT! my legs choregraph in a flat-footed gaffe, face-palm on the mat.
My Worst Ever
QUAIL in the bushes during
NAVEL orange fight.
FREER spirits shout and stamp and hurl fruit.
SPLATs announce solid hits, make bush lair seem wise.
Dismissal
WINCE is what he does when the
WOMEN, coming going, not so much Michaelangeloing,
SMOKY party air parting, give him merest glance:
BADLY assembled, badly turned out him
A stretched-out Quordle poem
This verse might have an end that’s SMOKY –
I might need my mouth out to rinse,
since I’m convinced that should I say, WOMEN,
as well as men, can do things BADLY,
I’d be vilified as much as Edward, the Black Prince;
the triggering thus aroused would make me WINCE.
Loose Assemblage
SHRUB, arbusto, bush,
ASCOT, waistcoat, fascinator,
COMMA, colon, m-dash,
SHAWL, pashmina, scarf.
Shrubbish
I found an ASCOT SHAWL on a SHRUB, COMMA.
(SHRUB SHAWL from ASCOT, COMMA, is difficult to say.)
Is there an ASCOT COMMA as well as an Oxford one? No idea. I SHRUB my shoulders, shift my SHAWL.
Phonoegalitarianism
VOWEL—the sounds that sing?
EXILEs from beauty those stops and liquids?
FUDGE! For, how can you not like every sound in, say, fudge?
SMART money is on all the sounds.
Sandclock
COUNT your days! They always
HALVE: those gone, those ahead. Yet, the second set are ever
RARER. You may long to
DALLY. But your sandclock’s sand is running out.