“Take the ‘f’ sound heard in ‘rough.’
The ‘i’ sound heard in ‘women,’” wrote he, *
“follows on. Then, sure enough,
the ‘sh’ sound heard in ‘nation’ ends it.”
* Ollier’s the ‘he’ who wrote it.
G. B. Shaw? He’s who defends it.
(Spelling teachers love to quote it.)
G. B. Shaw? He’s who defends it.
(Spelling teachers love to quote it.)
What’s what
follows all about?
Herein’s a hint: think ‘Kilgore Trout,’
Kurt Vonnegut filet'd friend ‘Sturgeon’ –
since when, new
fish been emergin,’
fish folk
finned and fish folk scaled
(between swim fish folk swishy tailed:
a halibut, a
crappie, a
piranha, a tilapia).
From fish folk
gilled through fish folk grilled,
your fish-folk fancy’s here fulfilled
with fish folk
gals and fish folk guys.
(My wish? My fish you’ll recognize.)
Meet the maven
of the mod:
well-bread, world-wise wit Noel Cod.
Theda
Barramundi’s error?
Overdoing her mascara.
Mary Lamprey’s
brother Charles:
he helped her untie Shakespeare’s snarls.
Corbina
Bernsen’s fatal flaw?
His cry (“Fish Fry!”) on L.A. Law.
The Scotsman
Edmund Halleybut?
He claimed, “I comets tally, but…”
(CaNova, Judy?
Fish folk? Sure,
though most might now cut bait per her.)
("The More the Merrier")
Joel McCrayfish
plays the lead.
Of DC lodging he has need.
Jean Garthur’s
flat he would sublet.
Alas! A tete-a-tete-a
tete
ensues when
Charles Cohoburn’s prying
leads to “Bill”’s* arrest for spying.
“Moray the
Merrier”’s a kick –
though not a Prestiss Sturgeon flic.
* Cohoburn’s character continually misidentifies
McCrayfish’s character, regularly calling him Bill.
("Guys and Dolls")
Detroit’s Miss
Adelewife laments,
“A poisson can
develop cods.”
Her words are
heard in “Gals and Gents”
aka “Females, Fries and Scrods.”
And Damon
Grunion’s uptown marks?
But chum for Grunion’s downtown sharks.
Robin of Lox?
The rich call it stealth.
He gives to the poor. (Redistributed wealth?)
Celiakanth
Cruz, Salsa Mater,
sang before fish
left the water.
Pesce, Joe? In
Italy,
he’s ‘Fish, Giuseppe,’ let’rally.
Abortion
rights, as schooled fish know,
were won by fish. (See “Wade v Roe.”)
(Your roe boasts fangs? Then I suppose he
must
be called Beluga Ghosi.)
refers to
Moray Tyler Moore.
McCalamari
(first name? David):
for a squid, quite well-behavéd.
Ringo Starrfish
banged his drums
in Liverpool’s aquariums.
“Among all
porcine fish, he’s big.”
(Discourse, of course, re Porgie Pig.)
He’s MVP come
closeout games:
who else but LeBronzino James!
She’s blonde of
coif and blond of face
and blonde of brain: meet Doris Dace.
In pools and pool halls, so state stats,
he’s
tops. He's Minnesota Sprats.
His ‘Sole’iness
(that’s Francis, Pope):
he’ll keep the oceans cool, we’ll hope.
Humphrey’s love
was Bett Bacoral.
All thought Bett “a pretty goral.”
Humph himself?
He played the rogue: art-
houses shout, “Don’t miss TurBotgart!”
One filet be wa-a-a-a-ay too lean:
it’s Mrs.
Shrimpton’s daughter Jean.
Fish folk en France swim a la carte:
(Napoleon Bonitoparte?)
To choc’lates,
boxed, which we eat up, he
likens life -- does Forrest Guppy.
“She’ll be
apples! “ (Things are fine.)
That’s Russell Croaker, spoutin’ Strine.
“…a doctor, not
a saveloy,”
shouts Star Trek medic “Bones” McKoi.
And what's BronZeno’s Paradox?
A race between a pair of jocks.
Ira Gershfin’s coup de grace?
To pen some words to Porgie and Bass.
If any fish can
marry dark an’
light, Pierre Teilhard de Shark can.
Who’s seen
swimming down the stream
whilst lutenizing? Julian Bream.
You crave
beluga caviar?
You’ll slaver over Terry Gar.
D’ya dig this
broadcast host’s aplomb? De-
clare, “I’m there for Coho Nnamdi.”
Fish turned
philanthropic cove, he:
Rock ‘n’ Rolldom’s Jon B’Anchovy.
“Booze won’t
hurt. In fact, ‘twill hearten.
Where’s the bar?” snorts Sardine Martin.
("Tom Sawyer" and Huckleberry Finn")
Twain’s a
piscine catalogue:
Tom Sawfish loves Aunt Pollywog.
One finds a
Dolphin and a Duke.
That Watson’s Jim survive’s a “fluke.”
Another Twain
nomadic laddie:
Huckleberry Finn ‘n’ Haddie.
As for Mark
Twain’s alter egos:
Samu’l Clamens goes where he goes.
Meet the Modern
Jazz QuarTetra,
playing Hal’but Hall etcet’ra.
“One might
starve, were one to lack krill,”
blurts a burly Bernie Mack’rel.
“Alewives eat
their young.” Pure bollocks?
Nope: a slur of Sidney Pollock’s.
Poster child
fur Volk who’re vile?
“Sieg Heil!” –
Adolphin-Hitler-style.
Mein Fuhrerfish? Long dead and gone,
as is his mistress,
Eva Prawn.
One school of
eels – including Seel,
Greg van der Weel, Gibran, Khaleel,
and Paster
Norman Vincent Peel –
when jellied, makes a tasty meal.
Another school
boasts Howard Keel,
Sharque’eel O’Neel and Bradley Beel,
Patricia Neel
and Brian Freel --
“suffish” for any
angler’s creel.
(Though Eelvis
Presley is an eel,
to throw him back is no big deal.)
Or, grab your
Old Bay and a fork! A
fillet of Garcia l’Orca
hits the pan.
(What’s on the grill?
A bit of blackened Blenny Hill.)
Great logos
don’t arrive en masse;
they need
design. (They need Saul Bass.)
Among Jurassic
fish float four:
there’s Watts-, Wood-, Keith- and Mickthy’saur.
(En arriere as “Mickth” blows harp?
Terpsichorean
Twyla Carp.)
“TV’s a
wasteland!” Rin-tin-tin? No!
Just a quote from Newton Minnow.
Ceta source which never fails?
That’s Wiki-wizard Jimmy Whales.
[Failing to
find puns for ‘perch,’
nor wishing to this verse besmirch,
I’d
discontinued further search.
Then took my bait did Thora Pirch.
Next, a fair,
if falling, star:
here’s Sonny’s chum cum
child bride, Char.
Which fat fish
swims the Rio Grande? O-
bese be fins of Marlin Brando.
Six-foot-six –
one huge kahuna.
Who but hoofer Tommy Tuna?
Dr. Seuss’s
“One Fish Two Fish”
pales near Jake and Elwood Bluefish.
Roles in
“Cabaret” need nailing.
“Emcee”’s one, so cast Joel Grayling!
Into tech, who
took the plunge?
One big one’s Eelon Muskellunge.
Which bro’s the
BF Tintin had? Ach!
Few as true as
Captain Haddock.
(Schools of
fish folk, by the way,
team Aldo, Man and Martha Ray.)
Asked to i.d.
baseball’s buddha,
Yanks yell, “Yogi Berracuda!”
Myrna l’Oyster?
Shucks! Long gone –
though swimmin’ still be Walleye Shawn.
Through
criminality’s “Who’s Who”
floats Chinese villain Fumet Chu.
Who’d Gary
Grouper teach to swim?
(“Flash Gordon”’s Buster Crab taught him.)
Give, last, the
Jesus fish a nod,
aka “Ikthus/Son of Cod,”
which fish
cries, “End thy pisces piece.
My
gospel’s “Catch, nor ne’er
release.”
[I’d failed to
further fish folk find
when Salmon Rushdie rushed to mind.]
FIN
