Q:________________________________________________________?
A: Ask again anon, Aristotle: all
answers, as always, are awry and askew.
Q:______________________________________________________________?
A: Before blatantly beginning
bothersome badgering, Boethius, better bow briefly.
Q:
__________________________________________________________?
A: Candidly, conditions continue
cloudy. Copernicus can’t currently comment.
Q:___________________________________________________________________________?
A: Dubiosity’s definitely done,
dispelled! (Does Dr. Descartes doubt? Dammit, Doc! Don't! Dig...?!)
Q:
___________________________________________________________?
A: Enfin, Einstein, energy’s erratic.
Every easy explanation ends enigmatically.
Q:
____________________________________________________________________?
A: ‘Fraid frequency’s failing,
Fridugisus. Follow-up forthwith -- Friday fortnight, f‘rinstance.
Q: ________________________________________________________?
A: Generally, Galileo, generating
gross grilling gets guys' gonads gainsaid.
Q:_____________________________________________________________________________?
A: Holy ho-hum, Herr Heidegger -- haven't honestly
heard. (However, heckling hardly helps, huh…?)
Q:
_____________________________________________________?
A: Input’s inferior, Isidore. Its
interpretation is, I imagine, incomplete.
Q: _________________________________?
A: Jabberwocky’s just jargon, Junger…jamais!
Q:
____________________________ ?
A: Kindly, Kierkegaard, kill
kinky koans.
Q:
______________________________________?
A: Ludicrous, Leibniz! Let’s
(like) liaise later, laddie.
Q:______________________________________________________________?
A: Merlin...? Maybe Monday.
Meantime, Mr. Moue, mark my mouth: “Moo-oo-oot!”
Q:____________________________________________________________________________?
A: Nope. Not now, Nostradamus.
Nearer noon…? Nyet! Next November…? Nein! Numquam! (Never!)
Q:
___________________________________?
A: Oracles…? Obscure, Origen.
Omens…? Outre.
Q: ________________________________________?
A: Please, Plato: pray put philosophical
posers politely.
Q:
____________________________________________________?
A: Quiet, Quine! Quit querying!
Quash queer questions qua quarrels.
Q: _________________________________________?
A: Request roundly rejected,
Rousseau. (Right! Really!)
Q:
______________________________________?
A: Sorry, Socrates. Should’a said
somethin’ sooner.
Q: ____________________________________________?
A: ‘Tis truly tough to tell,
Teilhard. Try this time tomorrow.
Q:
___________________________?
A: Unanswerable, Unamuno…unless…
Q:
__________________________?
A: View’s vague, Vico…very! Va-t’en!
Q: ________________________________?
A: Well would we wonder why,
Wittgenstein.
Q:
__________________________?
A: Xenophon…? Xeno-…XII...XI...X...
Q:
_______________________________________________________?
A: Yesterday's yammering, Yockey,
yields you your yearned-for “Yessir!s”
Q:
___________________________________?
A: Zeno…? Zeno?!
Zzzzzz…zzzz…zz…z...zz...z...
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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