The Mad Florchitect's Songs (Past)

     Aix-La-Chapple 

Aix-La-Chapple! Aix-La-Chapple!

Posers four with which to grapple:

(1) Excess wholesaled to Snapple...?

(2) Sweet treats for Sancho's Dapple...?

(3) Who's chapplain...? Father Mapple...?

(4) Chants "Love me, love my apple!"...?

(No response...? Perhaps some Lapp'll.

Aix-La-Chapple! Aix-La-Chapple!)

 

     The Alamorinda

Remember the Alamorinda...?

Damn! Smells (phew!) 

like Sam Houston threw up.

Lest more fragrant crops fail 

or you're (vagrant!) in jail,

best ignore: 'gest no more 

than a sup.

     (Had the walls of its halls 

been of mangoes,

with a pineapple serving as door,

then the odor put out

might have counter'd the rout

and prevented one more 

Tex-Mex war.)

     

     Angkor Kumquat

     Phnom 

Penh pal Pol Pot dare not boycott

Angkor Kumquat, come what may.

     Pol's 

told, "Go bold, what!" (If Pot shows not,

all Wat's loquats rot away.)

     Auburjine Khalifalfa

To pierce seven heavens it seems on the verge,

this towering tower -- to Arabs, this 'burj.' 

Its architect of his convictions the cour'ge

never ceded: indeed, Ade* adhered to his urge

to the tallest e'er florae-themed digs to emerge

from the sands of the planet to raise, and so purge

ev'ry inkling of failure (all architects' scourge).

Thus it rises above us -- Smith's purple-green splurge:

Auburjine Khalifalfa -- towards samaa to surge.

(A rhyming nine liner is rarely a dirge.)

     * Adrian Smith of Skidmore, Owings & Merrill

 
     The Autobahnana

I speed. I skedaddle. 

I drag race. I dash.

I hotfoot. I hightail. 

I'm off in a flash.

Puts the pedal to metal 

(my mom thinks I'm rash)

does my Autobahnana Peel. 

(Pray I don't crash!)

     Baby(lon) Carrots

If in Pentateuchs you trust,

that high-rise built there proved a bust.

Had tougher taproots been employ'd,

we'd not be suff'rin' schadenfreud.'

     La Beetrootonda

Beetroot, taproot! Tables for two!

P'lladio, daddy-o: fables for few!

Bitteroot, gingeroot! (Vertigo...nu...?

The beetroot goes on, cuein' hullabaloo.)

     Bethlehemlock

O little town of Bethlehemlock,

crib to Jewish kings,

does, too, equip the lethal nip

which Soc* -- condemnéd -- stings.

     * The ancient Greek Platonist Socrates,

executed by the Athenian state. 

     Le Bibbliotheque Nationale

Ev'ry book-(guy or gal)-worm et al.

who find butterhead lettuce "pas mal,"

must its leaves dress, then bind, 

then insert them (unsign'd)

in Le Bibbliotheque Nationale.

 

     Big Bean

That melody...? Big Bean.

"Bean" floods each bloody London scene 
with small-scale sonic booms
from tempo'd timepiece cum legumes.
Bean echoes like a gong
each hour-long bong: dong-ding, ding-dong.
(This metro-gnomic gent's
one hi-rise rhizomonument.)

Moscow's Bolchoy Theatre

Rus polloi enjoy choy ev'ry day,

with its vitamins -- C, B and A!

Then, in Balanchine form,

they chassé up a storm.

(There's no rushin' the Russian ballet.)

Bowling Greengage

Folks grow plums in Ohio, Kentucky,

in Missouri and Maryland, too.

New York City, Virginia and South Carolina...

Ontario grows quite a few.

(The Fed'ral Republic of Germany grows 'em...?

I did not know that. How did you...?)  

     Brandenbergamot Gate

Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek starr'd 

and order'd Earl Grey hot.

When visitin' in East Berlin,

decaf was all he got.

"I'm none too keen: there's no caffeine.

I hate this tea...alot!"

(He miss'd, withal, the gate they call 

The Brandenbergamot.)

 

     Caper Canaveral 

How do astronauts feed 

leaving Caper Canaveral...?

What pairs with Tang and a caper...?

What do astronauts need...?

Just your wish of "Godspeed!"

Then a "Bang!" Then a trail of white vapor.

     Castel Gandalfalfa

Here lies Castel Gandalfalfa,

where a Pope can grab some rays 

and an "Unto Caesar"* salad.

(RC's golden olden days!)

     * Named for Jesus's "Render unto Caesar 

the greens which are Caesar's and to God the 

green which is God's." (Prosperity Theology...?)

 

     The Cathedral of Chard  

Elderly yet avant-garde,

she stands in Eure-et-Loir’s backyard,

a house of prayer cum postal card:

the green Cathedral – oui! -- of Chard.

     Champignons-Élysées

In Paris, a city 

where pals are plupretty,

strolls une (per this ditty) 

en pull* et beret

dealing buttons, porcinis, 

morels and creminis:

my Mushroom Girl 

dans Champignons-Élysées.

"I've waxcaps. I've hawk wings. 

I've milks," mad'moiselle sings.

"I've oysters and clubs...

even truffles today:

each one tasty and yummy -- 

nor'll none turn your tummy,"

sings Mushroom Girl 

dans Champignons-Élysées.

 

     * Sweater in French

     

     Club Medlar

If inclusive vacations 

be right up your street,

turn your thoughts to Club Medlar, 

top holiday treat.

     Though the food they serve's rotten 

(and smells like Dad's feet),

just ignore that -- 

and count all the bigwigs you'll meet: 

     Shakespeare's Timon's a guest. 

Chaucer's Reeve visits, too,

as Cervantes' Quixote does 

(that we all knew).

     Francois Rabelais' Pantagruel. 

Tom Dekker's Whore.

Philip Pullman's Sir Charles. 

(Is that all...? Nope, there's more.)

     H. C. Bailey's detective. 

Some Saki as well.

Plus a google of others 

whose names one daren't tell.

     But with vetting and bletting,

fun there's guaranteed.

Re: vacations, Club Medlar's

a whole 'nother breed. 

      The Cobelisk (aka Cleopatra's Filbert)

Which London column oozes Egyptology allure...?

It's Cleopatra's Filbert. (It's a cobelisk, for sure.)

It's terrific, hieroglyphic...and, specific'lly, obscure. 

If you find yourself in London, do include it on your tour.

 

     Cornegie Hall

A tow-headed tomboy 

from Cedar Falls, Iowa,

stands at the corner 

of Pearl Street and Wall 

and quizzes the copper there, 

"Officer Affable,

how do I get, please, 

to Cornegie Hall...?"

     Officer A answers, 

"Practice arpeggios

over and over. 

But that isn't all.

Then, Clementi. Then practice. 

Then Czerny. Then practice...

Just practice: you'll wind up 

at Cornegie Hall." 

      Costa Guava

Costa Guava hosts few fava;

boasts, instead, this drupe so true.

Yo, ho! Let's have a toast to guava.

Come, ye yummy pommes: Salut!

     Côte d'Orange

Lor! Now I, unlike before, 

adore Cote d'Orange all the more.

Once scornful of its mandarins

(who'd bide those tiny two-ounce tins...?),

I'd tolerate its tangerines.

(Devour'd I dozens...? By all means.)

     Forged forward I through bloods and bitters,

though the former gave me jitters.

Then a darling clementine 

I dined on, finding it "divine."

Cote d'Orange now's my address placid.

There I sit...in citric acid. 

 

     The Dome of the Rocket 

The Dome of the Rocket:

esteem'd by the Jews,

no less by the Christians

(not few of 'em Druze),

still's most prized by Muslims --

just hear 'em enthuse...

while all three love arugula

salads and stews.)

     Dumbarton Ochras

At Dumbarton Ochras (no 'and', 'but' or 'if')

one's quite likely to spot a pre-C'lumbian glyph --

plus a possibly-Byzantine faux-hippogriff.

(They cook wonderful gumbo there, too.

Take a whiff!)

 

     The Eiffel Taro 

We got son'thin' ta say, mio caro,

tho' wethinks this verse stinks -- like stale gar roe...

...but our rhyme won't vamp time 'til tomorrow.

List,' we pray, lest your day ends in sorrow!

     Who knows nil scales this Kilimanjaro.

Don't tempt fate! Best to wait in the far row.

Why'd shy guys urge you rise up so far...? Oh,

sigh not "Why not...?"! Cry "Bye, Eiffel Taro!"

 

     El Escarolial

Are you call'd El Escarole...?

Or El Escorial...?

Are your eaves of endive leaves,

a bitch on which to scrawl...?

     Or are you more a Castle Dor,

a Spanish Taj Mahal...?

I think I'll call you, after all,

El Escarolial.

 

     Epricot Center

At Epricot, Walt's got it all.

Walt's Spaceship Earth is ve-e-e-ry tall.

Walt's Imageworks and What-If-Labs

upon our future lives keep tabs.

     Mission: Space and sundry rides

will topsy-turvey kids insides.

Still, what's the stuff that's mostly seen...?

Great crates of beta-Carotene!

     Fallingwatermelons

 

The house at Fallingwaterlilies...?

Unsafe building site.

The house at Fallingwatercress

gives architects a fright.

     The house at Fallingwaterchestnuts

flouts the regs re: height.

The house at Fallingwaterhemlocks

blocks not urban blight.

     The house at Fallingwaterkefir

fails to pass for white.

The house at Fallingwaterlettuce

disappears each night.

     The house at Fallingwateryams

some fruitcake set alight.

And the house at Fallingwatermelons

ain't no Lloyd Wright, right...?

     The Hotel Flamango

What's more sweet 

than a Dasheri mango...?

What's more sweet 

than a dance suite by Django...?

(There's no suite 

sans his Romany tango.)

'Tis your suite 

at the Hotel Flamango.

Sweeter far than peignoirs 

from Durango

or sure bets placed 

in Quetzaltenango.

Sweeter more 

than a Marshall Field Frango:

that's your suite 

at the Hotel Flamango.

     The Forbidden Citrus

Forbidden Citrus! Count the times 

I've advocated: "Show your limes!"!

My lungs...? Exhausted, begging you: 

"Do let me view your kumquats, too!

     And free your lemons, Hidden Cit!" 

(Who'd not love fruit which lacks a pit!)

No rhymes for 'orange'...? Wait two mins!: 

"I need to see(d) your mandarins!"

     

     The Gateway Archichoke

The great Gateway Archichoke --

USA's heart --

from where pilgrims who'd settle the West

best depart --

is a stainless-steel structure  

(it's state-of-the-art).

"Take some food," cries Saint Louis.

"An artichoke heart!"

     Grapesland 

(Sung to the tune of Chuck Berry's 

"Memphis, Tennessee," and best accompanied 

by Johnny Rivers's '57 Stratocaster.)

Help me, InfoMaven, to en-
roll each Pinot gris...

each Shiraz, Merlot, each noir Pinot -- 

plus each Verdot (Petit)...! 

'Cuz, when I'm through, we'll (me 'n' you) 

enjoy a vintage spree...

through El "Vin" Aros'* Grapesland, 

down in Memphis, Tennessee.

* A Spoonerism for "Elvis Aron"'s

     Hadrian's Walnuts 

Hadrian's Walnuts, extending for leagues

across forest and field, forestall foreign intrigues.

When provocateurs brandishing nutcrackers try

for a land grab, stout stone fruits won't let 'em get by,

thus allowing us time to stage counterattacks.

(Plus, their meats sub as treats, making nourishing snacks.)

    Hagia Sofigia

Say "Hiya!" to Hagia Sofigia's

architectur'lly grandiose digs!

Christian church, Muslim mosque, this museum's

been call'd home by binomial bigs.*

     Marble floor, nice Nice Door** -- and mosaics

which will flip art-appreci'tive wigs.

But the best part of Hagia Sofigia 

are those Malta and Napoli figs.

     

      * Among them Hubert of Silva Candida

and Enrico Dandolo.

      ** The so-call'd Nice Door is the oldest 

architectural element within Hagia Sofigia.

     Haricot Versailles

Bonjour, Haricot Versailles!

UNESCO says I must drop by --

the spot to see before I die.

OK, UNESCO: tell me why!

Hari, co'vert...? Mata, spy...?

'A(p)ricot-hued French bean pie...?

But do I crave French beans...? Not I.

Haricot Versailles...? Goodbye!

     The Hempire State Building

That building dubb'd The Hempire State

boasts sev'ral reasons why it's great.

As planes about it barrel roll,

it doubles as a dancing pole

for one weed-madden'd lovelorn ape

as crowds of gawkers, mouths agape,

stand ogling in the streets beneath.

(Such would not fly in Hempstead Heath.)

     The Hollywood Bowlwara 

     Hoover Damson

     The Impearial War Museum

The Im'pear'ial Musée de Guerre

displays arms in all aspects, all sizes. 
Some be guerre-shaped, some Wehr-shaped --
nor not a few pear-shaped -- 
with lots draped in camouflage guises.
If you darken their door, 

note: they claim to hate war
but they're pro-"Nuke the Left" enterprises.

     Jubilychee Gardens  

The lychee, 

boasting stony coat

enfolding fruit 

of fleshy note,
enjoys its poison seed 

to tote:
this nesting order's 

absolute. 
The Jubilychee Gardens 

lie

beneath the gaze 

of London's Eye,
which wheel few souls 

but fools dare try
without employing 

parachute.

     The Kaleosseum

Football boasts its sev'ral bowls:

Rose, Cotton, Orange... Still,

a Salad Bowl...? Sure! 

Romaine's Kaleosseum fills that bill.

Where blood gets spilt and lives get lost...

...and kale and lettuces get toss'd.

     Kinderdaikon 

The patch attach'd to Kinderdaikon

fervent tourists like to hike on 
(and are seen to ride their bikes on)

tikes are keen to try out trikes on.

     Up the road from Amsterdam,
near levees (and a hamster's dam) --

the Kinderdaikon "fad"-ish is --
composed, in part, of radishes.

     Kiwi Biscayne 

Kiwi Biscayne 

perches well south of Maine.

It is not Kiwi West 

well assured you may rest.

It is not Kiwi Largo. 

(We'd ne'er south tha-a-at far go.)

Its tow'r (polychrome) 

crowns what dugongs call home.

     Its gooseberry lighthouse 

illumines the night,

but its gooseberry fruit 

never sea cows shall suit.

It's on seagrass they feed: 

that's what manatees need.

(Though they kiwis disdain, 

they love Kiwi Biscayne.)

     Kohlrobie House

     Kyotomato 

     La Sagradish Familia 

Say “Howdy!” to Gaudi. 

His building is gaudy.

Some brand it as rowdy, 

perhaps even bawdy. 

     I’d not peg it dowdy, 

nor surely not naughty. 

It's "head-in-the-cloud"y. 

(Be canonized, ought he…?)

 

     The Lingon Memorial 

Last seen, years past, 

in The North Hjo Pictorial:

red, round, respected...

and so-o-o-o gastronorial.
     Yipe! Now he's ripe. Let's all 
pipe verse sensorial:
♪ "Three for dessert at the 
Lingon Memorial." ♫

     Machu Peaches 

Who sports a Jones 

for fruits, with stones, 

from far-flung distant reaches

no worse can do 

than tour Peru.

Pick Incan Machu Peaches!

     Magnolia Plantaintion 

I confess to cessation 

of holidays Haitian,
of furloughs Croatian, 
sabbaticals Thracian.
Ba-na-na-na-

nation...? Nah! 

Now no vacati'nin'...

'ceptin' in Charleston's 
Magnolia Plantaintion.

    Maiza Verde 

Who'd yearn fer corn

must earn her corn, 

nor turn forlorn 'n' scaredy.

If spook'd by heights, 

tour sunken sites: 

steer clear of Maiza Verde!

     The Nazca Limes 

If petroglyphs still ring your chimes,

be sure to tour the Nazca Limes.

Avoiding fall- and wintertimes,

you'll yet endure acidic climes --

though, thanks to plu-colossal climbs,

you'll steer well clear of sour'd slimes.

They'll ne'er be known through pantomimes:

Peru's stupendous Nazca Limes.

    Olympickle Stadium 

Towards Arena Olympickle, 

Montreal, 

Madame Fortune's proved fickle. 

But that isn't all:

Did I have but a nickel 

for each collaps'd wall,

for each shingle which 

off it's fail'd roof vault did fall,

ev'ry neighborhood rowhouse 

consumed by its sprawl,

I'd have, now, me a mickle. 

A bundle! A haul!!

     Pearamids at Giza

Scorchees searchin' sere Saharas 

for desserts design'd to please a-

ficionados of the phara'hs

plump for Pearamids at Giza.

     Quai d'Orsavory 

Today it's Quai d'Orsavory.

Mañana...? Quai d'Orsage.

Hasta luego, Quai d'Orsago!

(Sav'ry's now the rage.)

Oui mai: now Quai d'Orsavory

we may -- olé! -- engage.

(And, lest you wish 

to grace your dish with kale,

close not this page!)    

     The Rhubarbican  

With no towers numb'ring seven, 

with no moat to cap the plan,
with no walls to fortify the town  
as 'round that town they fan,
with no hundred-plus embrasures 
stretching 'cross those ramparts' span, 
any lesser barbicans cannot. 
But our Rhubarbican!

     Sacre-Coeurgettes

Forget about Iceberg 'n' 

Cranberry Beans; 

skip Endive, Romaine 'n'

Arugula Lett-

uce, Radicchio, Kale 'n' Chry-

santhemum Greens:
pay a visit to Montmartre's 
Sacré-Cœurgettes!

     The Sydney Hop'ra House 

Who’s daft for draft and Johann Strauss

(composer of Die Fledermaus)

must make a point to, with his spouse,

drop by the Sydney Hop'ra House.

     The Taj Mahalmond

Which celebrated sepulcher 

might please the legume connoisseur
your mum's become...? Just muster Mom und 

tote 'er towards the Taj Mahalmond. 

     The Wheat House

Comes word you've ne'er heard 

of the house built of wheat. Blous-

y pundits who have 

even call it The Wheat House.
     One tenant proved liar, cad, 

psycho, knave, cheat, grouse,

molester of women --

in short, a complete louse.
     He herds his "good words" 

into long-winded tweet-
storms he Twitters most morns 

from the bowels of his Tweet House.
     Thrice wedded, he's pull'd 

an espousal "threepeat,"
though each bride Blondel beds 

proves but one more effete spouse.
     Yet sleepers awake! 

Patr'ots take to the street
to protest this tycoon -- nay: ty-

rant -- of The Bleat House.

     Him (guilty as sin) they'll soon 

rightly unseat --
less a man [plus his kin!] 

than a now-obsolete mouse.

     Let's do it! 

(A Weatherman's victory sweet.)
Ah-h-h-h...but how...? Must we now 

this wimp's fam'ly with 
"sheet" dowse...?
     Or hang the whole gang -- 

cronies, kids -- by their feet...
and display 'em across 

the South Lawn of The Wheat House...?

     Xanadurian  

Hey, Kublai Khan! What's goin' on...?

What for's your corps all hurryin'...?

Say, Charlie Kane! Don't snarl my chain:

How come you scum be scurryin'...?

To quiz you both I'm less than loath:

that bling you've be'in' unburyin'

from far and wide, those bribes you've plied:

whose favor were you curryin'...?

With all that thievin,' be you leavin'

time, without your worryin,'

to fabricate one great estate, 

your fancied Xanadurian...?

     The Ziggurat of Urly Peas 

My father's tomb holds many mansions --

thermal baths, gale-vaulted garrets

form'd from waxy 'taters, alli-

gator pears and baby carrots.

Lettuce and tomato seals

seal labyrinths of broccoli trees --

a monument to meatless meals:

the Ziggurat of Urly Peas.

 

     Gallaudate University 

     Celeryfridges & Company 

     Fontainebleauberry 

     The Yams 'n' Ochra Basilica 

          at Yamoussoukra, Cote d'Ivoire

The Tater Gallery 

     The Tomb of the Onion Soldier

     Trafalgherkin Square 

     Tuileries Jardin'jou 

     The Umayyad Musquemelon

     The US Naval Avocadomy 

     Valenthyme Park

     Vassar Collards

     The Washington Monumint

Atlanta's Seck'lorama 

     The Statue of Libertwort

     St. Basil's Cathedral 

     Rocketfeller Center

     The Royal Filbert Hall

     The Rutabagas of Calais

  Red Currant Square 

     The Parisnips Opera

     The Pentarragon

     Pharose Hips Lighthouse 

     Pickle Dilly Circus

     The Pimentagon

     The Porch of the Carrotatids

     Pruneited Nations Headquarters

Onion Station

     Palazzo Vetchio

     Pall Molive

     The Panthenonion

     The Pearamids at Giza

 Massachusetts Quincetitute of Technology

     The Melon Library

     The Moscow Artichoke Theatre

     Mount Rushmorel

     MuscaTel el-Amarna 

     Navy Pear 

The London Eyceberg

     The Louvreage 

     La Scalapeño

     The Leaning Tower of Peas

     Leek Tahoe

     Lettuce 'n' Pear Garden 

 

     The Lyberry of Congress

     The National Zoocchini

     The Guggenthyme Museum 

     The Giant Figoda

     The Grand Trianonion

     The Granny Smithsonian