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Monday, December 30, 2019

Mons/Tors & Mann's Terse...? Mung Stirs & M'ron's Tours: Numbers in a Series

Ominous '-Osity's Disguising Off-season Woolgathering or What Else Did In the Dinosaurs...?: #5 in a Series 

Curiosity kill’d the cat, 
her filaments shov'd in stuff whiskers ought shun.
How oft she'd been caution’d, “Don’t walk, Whiskers! Run!” 
(Inquisitive kittens are not where it’s at.)

Reciprocity drown’d the rat.
Abandoning ship as marines bilge-pump'd water
repaid one murine far less aid than it oughter.
(Should vermin, unnerv'd, skip the ol' "tit-for-tat"...?)

Luminosity nail’d the gnat.
Drawn toward the flame as was third cousin Moth,
these ticks' Icarus schtick leaves 'em lifeless. (And wroth!)
Their neognats may need a new rheostat.

Animosity off’d the plat.'
Dim Aussies duck-pecker'd uniques used to hunt,
nearly killing the lot of 'em -- may I be blunt...? --
claiming, "Platypode pelts make an all-the-rage hat."

Hypervelocity snuff’d the ‘skrat.
Elevation of pulse culminated in stroke:
muskrat love tapp'd while tangoing's never a joke.
'Skrats be better off caged. Or engaged in a chat.

Numerosity whack'd the bat.
They've roosted in numbers to stagger the mind
or they've "vampired till ready." We've not dug their kind
and, in no hazy terms, said goodbye to all that.

Grandiosity slew the sprat.
Plas-excessive ambition -- precocity plus --
leads to fisherfolk flingin' 'em under the bus.
Can't you still hear that Gatling gun's "rat-a-tat-tat"...?

So: will virtuosity zap the Nat...?
MVP candidate Rendon's the guy. 
Unrestricted free agency's part of the pie.
To which dugout might Anthony throw in his hat...?* 

     * My source, long a Nats follower, informs me that 
Rendon "threw his hat into the California Angels dugout 
Dec. 11, 2019, to the tune of $245 million for seven years -- 
and finished third in the MVP voting." 



Buyer’s Remorse (December 2020 Episode): #4 in a Series

Here he comes to save the day:
“Those responsible shall pay!”
He claims, with circumstance and pomp,
he'll drain that greasy D.C. swamp.
“I will eliminate,” states he,
“all income inequality….
and introduce health care for all,”
he adds. (This guy's a SuperPol!)
"Where's climate change on my agenda...?
Right up top! But wait! Addenda:
racial issues, free tuitions,
gay rights, greenhouse gas emissions,
judges, gerrymandering...
Why, I'll be fixin' everything!"
(He got my vote November 3rd.
Since then, I haven’t heard a word.)


Bai Ze: #1 in a Series 

Are this thing’s eyes chartreuse…
...or blue…?
Do those eyes number nine…
...or two…?
Be it ensconced in scales…
...or hair…?
Be that hair sprouting here…
...or there…?
Its shoulders: have they arms…
...or wings…?
D'you wonder if it speaks…
...or sings…?
Does it discourse in sense…
...or rot…?
Observe you a Bai Ze
...or not…?



SuperSomethin': #2 in a Series

It isn’t a bird. 
It isn’t a plane.
It isn’t a Kurd 
in a sokutai train.
It doesn't come masked. 
It doesn't come caped.
It doesn't come torus- 
or cylinder-shaped.
It doesn't go shoeless. 
It doesn't go shod.
(It hasn't a foot, 
so that isn't so odd.)
It isn't a plainsong. 
It's not Larry Bird.
(Is it something for which 
there's yet no human word...?) 


He No Longer Rings At All (Oscar Night Edition): #3 in a Series

Postmen.
Postwomen.
Postal employees.
Whatever your gender,
the aid you all render
propels me to my knees.
     My wish to purchase postage stamps
and eyeball all on offer
your acrimony upwards ramps
to out your inner scoffer.
     Postmen.
Postwomen.
Postal employees.
I give you a toast: all
I ask…? Don’t go postal!
Just give me...the envelope, please!


(More "Monsters" to come: a work in progress)

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