Losts & Founds: An ABC

     The Lost Ark

Careless Hebrews lost the Ark 
but Jones, a gentile, found it -- 
along with half a dozen nasty 
Nazis runnin' 'round it. 

     The Lost Boys

When J. M. Barrie's boys get lost;
they land in Neverland. 
Whene'er to go they make a show, 

those plans get Peter Pan'd. 

     The Lost Cause

The South rebels. Each rebei yells,

"Secession we embrace!

But let's be clear: the issues here 

have nowt to do with race."

     The Lost Dog

     E 

lost everything

     F 

lost face

     G 

lost ground

Punday Pfunnies: Eden

 

AmalgaMates: Khalil GiBron James

 

Ubi Meus Est Roy Cohn...?

"Oh, dear," we hear Herr Drumpf bemogn, 

"I seek no weak-will'd chaperohn!

America's a combat zohn.

So, where, oh, where is my Roy Cohn...?"

    D'ya hear Drumpf mogn, "Where's my Roy Cohn...?"...?

Where's my litigious traffic cohn...?

No waffle cohn's my cornerstohn!

Oh, where, oh, where is my Roy Cohn...?

     "Where's my cologhn'd 'n' coss'tted crohn...?

My cyclohn...? My kimohna'd clohn...?

You creeps can keep your cortisohn: 

I ne'er share share my ohwn Roy Cohn."

Ottet: An Octet of "-ot" Couples (with Supplemental Codotta)

          i. 

Baseball all-star Ott 
(call'd Mel, is Melvin not...?), 
a player who 
aspires to 
the Sultanate of Swat.

     Randolph Caldecott

resembles Ed Lear...NOT!

He does, although,

like Ed, earn dough

through sketches Randy'd jot. 

          ii. 

Jaat, a Hottenttot, 
performs his turkey trot 
while speaking !Kung, 
which twists his tongue. 
(This guy's a polyglot.) 
     Big bigot Margie Schott 
dispenses tommyrot, 
slurs "Japs" 'n' "Kikes,"
prefers Third Reichs: 
progressive Marge is not.

 

          iii. 

The Lady of Shalott 
dwells east of Camelot. 
Her lunch is curd; 
the munch preferr'd 
is oil of Bergamot. 
     Doctors say I've got 
a DVT -- a clot.
At first, my knees 
are not "the bees.'" 
And now my veins are shot.

         iv.
M. Jean-Paul Marat 
extolls les sans-culottes. 
For this, Corday 
makes Jean-Paul pay: 
she stabs him, sans garrotte. 
     Hale Lucretia Mott 
assails male rule as rot. 
Her sister Suffs 
puff, "'Nuf's enough! 
We want that vote you've got."

         v. 

Brave Sir Lancelot 
slays knaves at Camelot. 
He's play'd by Cleese 
with expertise 
in Broadway's "Spamalot." 
     Dick and Jane's dog Spot 
those siblings train to trot, 
to fetch a ball 
nor that ain't all: 
that mutt can put a shot! 

     vi. 

Soprano Montserrat, 
on tour in "Turandot," 
earns ill reviews,
plus rounds of "boo!"s.' 
"Whaht ahm I: shahp or flaht...?"
     Milkah's brother Lot, 
once Sodom grows too hot 
(Gomorrah, too, 
comes down with feu), 
hightails it 'board his yacht.

     vii. 
Author Walter Scott 
is master of the plot. 
His seamless schemes 
Walt draws from dreams 
he dreams while smoking pot. 
     Benoit Mandelbrot 
with fractals casts his lot. 
D'you think it's larks 
to track those arcs...? 
If so, you don't know squat.

     viii. 
Pointillist Seurat,
whose girlfriend's name is Dot,
spends day 'n' night 
depicting light 
nigh Island of Grande Jatte. 
     Cambodia's Pol Pot 
'pon hist'ry plants a blot. 
He dwelt back then 
in west Phnom Penh 
but long'd for Angkor Wat.

     Codotta 

Betty Arbuthnot 
and Anastas'ya Ott, 
Monsieur Fermat, 
Herr Durrenmatt 
and football's T. J. Watt. 
    Henry Endicott,

the Hoople known as Mott, 
one Huguenot 
and Alex Trott:

they're all the "-ot"s I've got. 

OuLiPoem # 37

My spice rack's lacking cinnamon:
of condiments the clinamen.

Declaration of Condescendence

 

     Moments after twice-impeached 

former president Donald Drumpf left 

the stage of a campaign rally he had 

held in the museum wing of the 

National Archives, a museum guard 

noticed that the display case housing 

the Declaration of Independence had 

been breached and that the famous 

document had been mysteriously 

altered. 

     "The array of iconic signatures 

made by our Founding Fathers has 

been supplemented by a grotesque 

addition, most likely made by the 

black Sharpie discovered near the 

vandalized case," noted the guard.

      

     NARA has vowed to investigate.

Yo! A Nonsense Lyric (As Sung by Yolande)

"You've your yoyoing Yogi, 

 your yoyoing Yoda. 

 Yonder's yoyoing Yom Kippur.

 Your Yossarian, yoyoing, 

 yells, 'Hi-yo, Silver!'.

 You've yoyoing Yoko...yeah: her!

      "You've your yoyoing young 

 cryotherapist 

 (yours is yodeling 'sa-yo-na-ra'*).

 You've your yoyoing yoghurt-engorged 

 Dryopithecus; 

 yours yoyos (yoicks!) Yo-Yo Ma.

     "Rev'rend Spooner, while yoyoing, 

 yells, 'Rellow Yose! 

 Mold the hayo, Sosemite Yam!'

 Both those yokels, once through  

 (with their yoyoing, nu...?)

 yodel, 'Yolayheehoo...'

 So: are you -- yabba...doo!** -- 

 B.Y.O.ing your yoyos...?"

     "I am."

     * Unlike in English, Japanese does not employ

stress accent. The effect generally is that each 

syllable receives approximately the same stress --

which can, to Western ears, sound like a stress accent

is applied to the final syllable, as it sounds above.

     ** Truncated version of characteristic comment 

by same Yogi Bear who appears in the first line of 

this lyric.

Yoyoing Yogi

Yoyoing Yoda 

     

     

(More images to come)

Walternatives; or, Our Faults Aren't In Our Stars But In Our Avatars

     Walter 

Disney draws a rodent. 

     Walter 

Lantz...? He draws a bird. 
     Walter 

Kelly draws a swampful -- 
     feather'd, 

weather'd, scaled 'n' furr'd. 
     Walter 

Carr draws souls of black folk, 
     folk who 

look a lot like him. 
     Walter 

Simonson draws Thor,
     performs the 

chore with nimble vim. 
     Walter 

Handelsman draws pols
     as well as 

Pulitzer's applause. 

     And Mc-

Dougall, Walter, draws, 

     with L. Frank's 

aid, oddballs from Oz. 
     There've been 

so-o-o few unsuccessful 'toons
     from 

fellas nicknamed Walt.
     If 

my 'toons fail but I'm call'd Dale,
     how's 

such defeat my fault...?

Memento Mori (If Not Today, Tomorry)

There's Juan de Capistrano,
sev'ral Als -- Capone 'n' Capp. 
There's Gabriele Cappellini, 
famous painter chap. 
There's hordes whose handles 
start with 'Cap,' 
tho' few remain afoot. 
Captured, knee-capp'd, then decapitated,
most be now kaput. 

Visits

Visits; or,

Von fremden -Landern und Menschen

(Of Foreign -Lands & Peoples)

Ackland visits Beulah Land, a stopover signaling the actor's final role, that of Christian in a film version of The Pilgrim's Progress. 

November 19th, 2023, rows Ackland, Joss,

an actor (BAFTA nominee), life's moaning bar across.

[Aside to Ackland's kids -- all three: So sorry for your loss.]

      Evacuating Beulah Land, Joss wades, waist deep, Death's River.

Some pools are shallow; more, profound; cold water makes him shiver.

He'll reach, though, New Jerusalem: his mate's The Great Forgiver.

Boland visits Candyland, a sojourn showing La-la Land's own Mary, though unmarried and without children, still enjoys her sweets.

Sits Lady Catherine de Bourgh at Snobdom's apogee...?

She does -- tho' Mrs Bennet's just as uppity as she.

When querying Jane Austen fans, you'll find few disagree:

Ms Boland nails Miss Austen's Mrs Bennet to a T.

     Tho' bars earmark'd for lesbians today no longer thrive,

they did in Mary's heyday -- circa 1945.

One favor'd spot was Candyland, where Boland would contrive

to play the part of Sappho to Tallulah's carpet dive.

Cartland visits Disneyland, a tryst wherein the prolific novelist 

secretly liaises with a certain loquacious rodent.

Pink 'n' blondine Barb'ra reign'd Regina of Romance.

She'd seven hundred novels up her sleeve (or down her pants),

for each of which this pink-plumed lich procured a plump advance.

     But dough weren't all to Cartland. Gloriosky! Heavens, no!

She kept a flat in Disneyland where, weekends, Barb'ra'd go

to tete-a-tete with Mickey Mouse. (Bragg'd Barb, "Young Mick's me  beau.")

 

Dowland visits Elfland, an appointment which finds the Renaissance composer asking Carroll's Sylvie and her brother Bruno for "a little help."

Melancholy John (dubb'd "Doleful Dowland," after all)

reign'd Prince of the Pavane: he spun a ton -- none folderol.

Imagine my surprise, then, when he penn'd a barcarole...

     ...which "carol" Dowland "bark'd" as he "embark'd" aboard his "barque"

to wend his way to Elfinland wherein to make his mark.

(Young Brun' 'n' Sylvie's Agéd P is Elfland's patriarch.)

  

Ekland visits Flatland, wherein a short soiree in A. Square's two-dimensional space distorts the zaftig Swede's own fuller dimensions.

"I'd fain to frolic free through Flatland," Ekland's wont's to say.

"My husbands warn me not to, but I've got to find a way...

...if not this week, this month, this year, I will do, one fine day."

     And, as you know, she'd fin'lly go, accomp'nied by A. Square,

the selfsame schnook who wrote the book; 'twas Square who squired her there --

tho' all he'd git of busty Britt were disks -- indeed, a pair.

Falkland visits Graceland, where the kitchen staff promises to address the viscount's craving for the King's favorite breakfast sandwich.

"A loaf of bread," the sous-chef read. "Is this The Rubaiyat...?

No 'wilderness'...? No 'wine'...? Confess: The Rubaiyat it's not."

"You unctuous oaf, a Fool's Gold Loaf," said I. "That's what you've got."

    The Viscount Falkland's frequent talk oft hawk'd just such cuisine.

"With bacon, bread, banana spread, with grape jam in between,

a jar of Jif...'tis all ours IF at Graceland we convene."

Garland visits Houyhnhnmland, booking the vessel Gulliver sailed while referencing a vehicle of her own -- a movie without Munchkins.

As Gumm, she visits Vaud'ville,* with her sisters joining forces.
As Gale, she trods Ozopolis, whose founder Baum, of course, is.
As Garland, so some stories go, she "had a thing for horses."
     "For years I plann'd that Houyhnhnmland be view'd," neighs Judy, prating.
"-inavia, Scand-...? Or Samarkand...? A bore -- unstimulating.

A ship's required...? The Ant'lope's** hired: this child's so-o-o-o tired of waiting."

     * Not the ville of Vaud but a type of entertainment featuring burlesque songs and dances.

     ** The merchant ship Gulliver sails aboard on his first voyage. 

The boat Garland books is, of course, Antelope II, commissioned after its namesake is lost at sea.  

Howland and Holland visit Iceland...

Walt Kelly's fowl -- one Howland Owl -- joins Oscar's offspring Vyv.
They wend their way towards Iceland's Bay,* like Jumblies, in a sieve.

"We'll disembark," the pair remark, "when's found the place to live."

     "The land we'll need must (please, me heed!) o'erflow with mead," vows Vyvyan.

"May digs we build with figs be fill'd! And have a lav (a privy) in,"

returns the bird. "You mark my word: our lair I'll ne'er be skivvy in."

     * Hvalfjoddur...? Djupivogur...? Kopasker...? The verse isn't specific.

Ireland visits Jutland...

Will Ms. Ireland visit Jutland or will Jutland visit Jill...?
(Will the hill approach Mahomet or will he approach the hill...?
Will she and he pour herbal tea...? And which of 'em will spill...?)

     "The beast that's Norway/Sweden seems about to bite, perhaps,

the snack that's Jutland -- or at least it looks so on my maps,"

announces Jill. "Yet go I will...before ol' Gabe blows taps." 

Land (sic), Land (sic) and Landon (sic) visit Kenorland...

Jenny, John 'n' Jack (et al.), by any other name --

say, 'Lind' or 'Lund' or 'London' -- would, no doubt, remain the same.

Their new-name spree's a mystery. So: what might be their aim...?

     These three long plann'd of Kenorland le tour de grande to take.

Then Gower* claim'd, "To be renamed an effort you must make:

In Kenorland, real names be bann'd; each passport must be fake."

     * Charles F. Gower (full footnote to come) 

Kirkland visits Legoland... 

"I understand that Legoland some man call'd Kirk* did build
in Billund's sticks** of plastic bricks. This bloke (no joke!) was skill'd.
Mark'd such its birth. Now much of earth with Legolands*** is fill'd."

     "'Tis nothing new. I'm call'd Kirk, too," Ken's heard, on cue, to say. 

"And Kens call'd 'Kirk' don't duty shirk. With us, more work, less play.

In Legoland I'll plant my grand.**** Once there, my plan's to stay."

     *Full footnotes to come

Lackland visits "...my land..."*

His brother, Richard Lionheart, sheds blood in holy lands

while Eleanor of Aquitaine, his mom, her clout expands

and he himself capitulates to barons' fair demands.

     "Few feudal fiefs be left to me; what are be scrubs 'n' sands,"

moans John, once 'once 'n' future dunce.' "Of them I wash my hands.

But lands which Woody sings about...? Those prove he understands."

     * I.e., from the redwood (not Sherwood) forests to the gulf stream 

(not For Britain far-right party founder Anne Marie) waters. 

Moreland visits Nyasaland...

"I'm Mantan call'd. I'm black. I'm bald. I've Marty Feldman eyes.*

What gigs I got...? Just nigrahs' lot. I soon this plot surmise.

Where'd thrive my brand...? Nyasaland, I've come to realize,

     a place where people look like me. There might there be the chance

to land some parts which vaunt my arts, my stature to advance.

T'allot that spot a shot I've got! (If not, I'll dance in France.)"

     *This condition is called ophthalmos. Some mss here read "Popeye Jackson eyes," referring to a character Alfre Woodard plays in the film "Miss Firecracker." Other mss read "Satchmo Armstrong eyes."

Ned Land visits Opryland

"With a whaling song one 'shant' go wrong. I've sung along a few.
Of 'Dead Man's Chest' and all the rest...? I've sung them shanties, too.

These days such lays bring just malaise: I'm needing numbers new."

     "I'll shout, 'How-DEE!' to Minnie P.* (A mate were she of mine.

Ms. Minnie's hat...? That's where it's at.) I'll channel Patsy Cline.

Pick steel guitar! Hick repertoire: (sic) 'Clemen Darlingtine'**!"

     *Minnie Pearl, with her price-tagg'd hat and "How-DEE!" greeting, 

appeared for 50 years at Nashville's Grand Ole Opry.**Spooner's take on an iconic folk ballad.

Oland visits Poland...

 Orner Woeland visits Poland...? A, E, I, O, U!

Status-Quo Land...? Songs of Roe Land...? Do I...? Deed I do!

So-'n'-So Land...? Toe-to-Toe Land...? Haven't got a clew.

     Undertow Land..? Voh-D'yoh-Doh Land...? Dew-wah-dew-wah-dew!

Tears of Woe Land...? X 'n' O Land...? Yessir! Just a few. 

Yoh-Heave-Hoh Land...? Just Ain't Zoe Land...? (P.S.: I ♥ you.)

The Portlands visit Quirpon Island...

"Aurora's lights! Great whales! Such sights!" these Portland gals agree.
Rene ("Coach") Portland, Portland Hoffa, Portland Mason -- three
who long to Borealis glows and breaching ceti see.

     "But where to go to share said glow...?" the mid-sized Mason mused.

"I know a spot," back Hoffa shot, "where once I summer-cruised."

Rene stood still; she knew the drill. "We three shall be amused."

Sama Chaka Quinland visits The Rhineland...

He sheds no tears. "I'll 30 years do standing on my head..."

boasts SCQ when sentenced to three decades by the Fed.

"...and once I'm done begins the fun. The Rhineland's fine, I;ve read."

     One decade's pass'd. As of May last, the poor young man remains

lock'd up in stir. What plans there were...? Committed to the drains.

"My Rhineland trek...? A rainstorm check I took. So: cue the rains! 

Roland visits Santaland...

Sutherland visits Toyland

Tollund Man visits Uppland

The Ulland Brothers visit Vineland

Diana Vreeland visits Wonderland

Wanda Landowska visits Xland

Xochitl von Laland visits Yorubaland

Yolande Bavan visits Zeeland

Will and Nell Zoyland visit Arnhem Land

     Outlanders: 

Sandra Bland 

Ann Landers

The Common Eland

John Landis 

Michael Landon

Seth Landqvist 

Tom Landry

Ivan Landl (sic)

Orjan Nyland 

     Outlandern:

Gondwanaland

Land-o'-Lakes

Ryker's Island

La-La Land

Mainland

Rusland

     Outlandish:

Thyroid Gland

Ku Klux Klann'd

Chocolate Flann'd 

Salternatives

Salternatives: A Charm City Sonnet

Part One

It's routine hue's not green, not blue: the yellow Bal'mer Salt Box.

But let me introduce to you the Bal'mer Salt Box alt box.

One's home to News's raven muse: the Charlayne Hunter-Gault Box.

Use single straw -- or two (you choose): the Double Choc'late Malt Box.

One holds wa-a-ay more than all its parts: the David Marr Gestalt Box.

The Big One's scaling off the charts: the San Andreas Fault Box.

This octal icon rules the streets: the Reach a Screechin' Halt Box.

This food lab houses serious eats: the Kenji López-Alt Box.

"I'm outta dough; I cannot lie...": the Student Loan Default Box. 

Where P***yGrabster goes to die: the Sexual Assault Box.

 

   

Part Two 

Comics herein limn'd...? The best! The 'Toons by Dudes Dubb'd Walt Box.

(Poe* draws as well...in Berlin West: Poe's Lebensunterhalt Box.)

This serves to store your foreign car: the English say 'Renault' Box.

These contents tell volks who you are: the Mispronounced 'Inhált' Box.

Your bubbe calls it liquid gold: where's 'z'...? Behind the 'Shmalt' Box.

This...? Home to hordes of Barb'rys bold: the '-er, Rock o' Gibrault-' Box.

Medievals used this for their church: the Pitch'd-brick Barrel Vault Box.

Embrace the flip; avoid the lurch: the Triple Somersault Box.  

This holds the tablets of the law: the Thou Shalt Not/Thou Shalt Box. 

Decryptions Turing oversaw: the AI's Alan's Fault Box.

    

 

Codetta 

It's routine hue's nor green nor blue, the Yellow Bal'mer Salt box.

That said, this last one's red: the "I Dictatoheads Exalt!" Box.

    * Ulysses Poe, aka The DMV's Doggerel Dickinson, is a Baltimore

poetaster/illustrator and creator of the texts and images you're presently perusing.