Neither Alvins named Ailey nor Babas call’d
Ali
got collar’d at
"Occupy Gasoline Alley."
No -kissangel,
Bally-; no Rumpole de Bailey.
No Women's Wear Daily; no raised dots :(too Brailley).
No "Serpent! From
hence shalt thou crawl on thy belly."
No sesame bialy,
no Sam's "Wooly Bully,"
no Elliot, Billy, no
brews news "-corn, Barley-."
(That brief Melvin Belli’s okay -- but just
barely).
Bann'd: Brahmins from Bollywood bruising
Brad's brolly
while filming Brad
brawling in ballrooms on Bali.
Caught: Lassie, a Collie, cavorting in
ceilidh
while wildcatting coke for
a cartel called Cali.
Deploy’d at Da's Deli, in drag: "Hello, Dolly,"
one debuting daughters
of Salvador Dali.
Elle's Christmas equale, penn’d especiale,
in Ely was pann’d as
"a tad Emmental-y."
Fat, fatuous Frawley erected a folly
wherein he philander'd – folks
felt fairly
freely --
until he
f**k'd Fifi, one fleet femme fatale.
"Game goalie -- no ghoul, he -- vaults, gaily, a gully..."
or so reads this galley
proof. (What? A spoof? Golly!)
His comet, called Halley, flies frequent as hail; he*
just knells his
noëls hailing IVs and Holly.
Her Berryness (Hallé),
our Holy of Holies,
defiled on her Harley. (Heard howl'd: "-leuia! Halle-.")
Allama Iqbal: he ingests his iced lolly
then misinflects 'Italy'
(terms it 'I-tal-y').
Joined: Fisher (Joely)
with wa-a-a-ay too
much jelly.
She (formerly scrawny) grows brawny -- though jolly.
Kiss one: [] goddess Kali; [] Kristyna Kashvili;
[] the Senate's "-son, Hutchi-" aka Kay Bailey.
La Langtry's a Lily and Eli's a Lily
and Allen and Tomlin -- each lovely, both Lilys.
But Lorelei Lee, though not
lowly, 'sno Lily,
and buds just won't bud for
Jean-Baptiste
de Lully.
Mrs. Bloom's christen'd Molly, Ms. Meg's a Mulally,
whilst Earhart's called 'Meeley' -- or 'Millie' (or 'Mellie').
Nell Bly is dressed nattily, as is Naphtali.
Undressed: Censorinus (de die Natali).*
* Infamous, of course,
for composing in his 'birthday suit.'
One dragon called Ollie. One Taitz known as Orly:
once tethered together, our true 'two and only.'
Pass the pralines to Pauly! Punt pretzels to Pele!
But, soft! Here's a U-turn: some cracker wants Polly!
What sort (...qualis, quali...) be Great-uncle Quigley
to level at Neville his poisonous
quill, eh?
"Retreat? Never! Rally!" rants Wall Street cop Raleigh.
"Those kids were
unruly!" (Still...leper spray? Really?)
See Sally. Run, Sally! Run, silly Svengali!
(They once jogged with
others, but now they sprint soli.)
This thirteenth timbale near trebles our tally.
Let's meet in St. Louis (clang-clang goes our trolley).
Ulysses (called Uly) blows hot ukulele.
His riffs and routines are esteemed -- not unduly.
Vern heard ‘cross the valley a thunderous volley:
applause from Volturno but boos
from Vercelli.
Where's Wonka-ther-Willy? Where's
Monte-ther-Woolley?
Where's Cleaver-ther-Wally? Died -- doin'-the'r-Wheelie.*
* A quartet of hommages a Edward Bear aka
Winnie-ther-Pooh.
X fields 'Xiphoidally; Y yields '"Yardboid"ally.'*
Z? 'Tis for
'Zigmund' (though not Zigmundfreudally).
* In the manner (though not in the Kansas City accent) of saxophonist Charlie Parker
PlaysWellWithLetters is a blogorrheal notebook of Nonsense in rhyming metres accompanying often-inconsequential sequencial graphics all issuing from the hands and/or minds of Sgt. N. ("Jim") Smithe-Magee, amateur author/illustrator whose several books are available online from Politics & Prose Bookstore under the nom de charade Ulysses Poe.
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