I.
When cowpokes poke fun at some son-of-a-gun,
they may claim, "He's all hat and no cattle."
It's, like ex-army brass who blow tales out their ass,
they may claim, "He's all hat and no cattle."
It's, like ex-army brass who blow tales out their ass,
much the same: "They're all shat and no battle."
So, when Indians say to the homesteaders, "Stay!"
some might hear, "You all scat! You no settle."
And when Tevya departs Anatevka, our hearts
some might hear, "You all scat! You no settle."
And when Tevya departs Anatevka, our hearts
quake with fear, "Once all bat, now no shtetl."
II.
(Letter ç appears to be pronounced something
like /ch/ in the Turkmen word 'çal,' meaning 'grey' in that
language. The coined 'çalcells' as a Turkmen-English hybrid
refers to the brain in the Agatha Christie sense of (little)
gray cells. In The Big Sleep we hear Chandler's hero
comment on the locale's ratio of guns to gray matter.)
Philip Marlowe: "My, my! Glut of guns! No brains! Why...?
Don'cha know...? It's all gats and no çalcells."
There be basins in France where Typhaceae plants
fail to grow: they're all jattes and no cattails.
Dumpty Drumpf dumpsters docs. Guilty...? Down to his socks!
Drumpf must go! He's all rat: no acquittal!
Some fraternities quash any hazing of frosh.
Mu Tau Rho is all frat and no paddle.
III.
Regular readers of PW²L will have noted its
editor's ongoing insistence upon strict meters being
maintained in the verses of Ulysses Poe. Such insistence
acknowledges as intentional the stress on the second
syllable of the final word in each of the three verses below
and, as such, its being a departure from the poet's earlier
practice of stress placement, instead, on the first syllable
of that final word. It's and example of the accentual
difference between 'cattle' and 'cartel.'
When I deal my own drugs, dodging syndicate thugs,
people say, "You're all khat, no cartel."
Were it mine to decide who'd become Clunes's bride,
in I'd weigh: "Always Catz, no Cadell."*
Although scops from the Indies with indigo bindis
say "Nay!," they're all Bhat, no Patel.
I, re winos and wine, "Cattle/Hat"-wise opine:
"They're no Tait-(tinger), all muscatel."
* In ten seasons of ITV's "Doc Martin," one might have
from time to time wondered which actress -- Caroline Catz
as Louisa Glasson or Selena Cadell as Sally Tishell -- would
wind up with Martin Clunes's Doctor Martin Ellingham...?
IV.
Since, of stuff cetyl's in, most proves bad for your skin,
emote throaty: "All wax! And no cetyl!"
Does Mambrino's gold helm * make a knight of the realm
of Quixote -- all hat and no kettle...?
As Octoberfest's oodles consume all the noodles,
folks mew, "It's all Bräts and no spätzle."
Likewise, publicans shout, "Knotted bread...? We've run out.
Bloede Kuh! We're all Blatz and no pretzel!"
* The Golden Helmet of Mambrino is, in fact, perhaps
less a kettle than a barber's shaving basin, but...what
the hey! We're talking nonsense here.
V.
If rug rats make noise, although gifted with toys,
parents judge, "You're all brat: so, no rattle."
And though digs (mine) -- surprise! -- are too roomy in size,
I can't budge: I'm all flat, no collat'ral.
Connoisseurs of the Bible are, downsizing, li'ble
to utter, "All jot and no tittles."
Whereas cooks who run short of good grub are the sort
who may mutter, "All vat and no vittles."
VI.
Of those same kitchen magi (just now all the rage) I
would say, "They're all flatware, no spattle."
Of their kin in the schools, as are none of 'em fools,
I'd say, "Hey! All eclat and no prattle."
And though plays bagboy Tucker Alt Right for a sucker,
we see, "He's no fact and all twaddle."
Still, as Murdock (le pere) won't shut off Tucker's air,
maybe God (if She's there) with a clot'll.
VII.
Seven waltzes penn'd Bach -- plus one sprightly ceroc.
These works' keys...? All A-flat, none A nat'ral.
Doodhpak, shrikhand, chaas, dal, roti, farsan et al...
Fare found where...? Gujarat. (Not Seattle.)
