My claim? Names of Jameses, through
historyspeak,
in due time wind up rhyming with ‘Jimmy
the Greek.’
Who is James, King of Scotland, but Jimmy
Antique?
Who is Jimmy Durante but Jimmy the Beak?
Isn’t James Joyce the novelist Jimmy
Oblique?
Ain’t the Good Book’s James Lesser just
Jimmy the Meek?
Isn’t Bond…James Bond…aka Jimmy the Chic?
(As for Susan Saint James, ain’t she Jim
So-to-Speak.)
Who are Jones, Beam and Watt? Aren’t
they Jimmy the Clique?
Who’s the Godfather (James Brown) but
Jimmy the Shriek?
Isn’t James Beard the chef Jimmy Bubble
and Squeak?
(When he’s sautéing onions, he’s Jimmy
the Leek.)
Isn’t James Earl Ray actu’lly Jimmy the Bleak?
Shouldn’t teamster James Hoffa be Jim
Up-the-Creek?
Isn’t James the Fat (Mor Stewart) Jim
Chubby Cheek?
Harvard’s James D. G. Wood? Who but
Jimmy Critique?
Jimmy Carl Black? Who but Jimmy the
Freak?
And James MacNeill Whistler’s just Jimmy
Technique!
John Lennon’s real name? Jimmy
Eight-Days-a-Week.
(And somewhere there stands a James
taking a leak.)
In Melbourne, ’07, there’s Jimmy the
Streak.
Isn’t fashion’s James Galanos Jimmy
Boutique?
(Jamie Harris the glass artist’s Jimmy
Lalique
and each blackbird you see might be Jimmy Cacique.
Some note: “Jimmy Marlu’s not Jim
Martinique,
but I
think Lizha James might
be Jim Mozambique.”
Jesse James assumes names: ain’t one Jimmy
the Sneak?
And the West’s Edwin James: ain’t he Jim
of Pike’s Peak?
Flautist James Galway passes as Jimmy
the Squeak.
Author P. D. James has to be Jim Hide-and-Seek.
(Or perhaps P.D.’s actu’lly Jimmy Mystique.
Jimmy Shergill of Bollywood’s Jimmy the
Sikh.)
Isn’t James Earl Jones oftentimes Jim
Vaderspeak?
Surely Javans are fond of their Jimmy
Batik!
And there’s, somewhere, some Arab called
Jimmy the Sheik.
(None are easy to find. Still, to find
you must seek.)
Isn’t Baldwin, occasion’lly, Jim
Fit-of-Pique?
James Kisiki of films: Jimmy Diabolique?
Dennis James, bodybuilder: not Jimmy
Physique?
(Ain’t Ezekiel aka Jimmy the Zeke?)
Where’s the card-playing James known as
Jimmy Bezique?
One more James whose geek name rhymes
with ’Jimmy the Greek.’
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "Plus...phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The po'sy posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
Thursday, June 21, 2018
"Piper Spighpin and others..." Dames & Days of Xmas (Illustrated Images)
 |
| PIPER SPIGHPINN |
 |
| GISELE LAYEN |
 |
| MAE D'ZAMILKEN |
 |
| CAL ("INGA") BERDZ |
 |
| GOLDA WRYNX |
 |
| FRAN CHENZ |
 |
| TUR ("DOLL") DOFFS |
 |
| LADY STANZING |
 |
| LOURDES-LEE PING |
 |
| REGINA PEARTREE |
"How did words originate? What theories chart their birth...?" In Theory or The Corey Lewandowski Approach to Language Origin: A Constrained Nonsense Rhyme
How did
words originate? What theories chart their birth?
In bow-wow
theory, Man apes sounds all ‘round -- for all he’s worth.
In pooh-pooh theory, Man responds to worry or surprise
or pain or fear. (Says pooh-pooh theory, "That’s how words arise.")
In pooh-pooh theory, Man responds to worry or surprise
or pain or fear. (Says pooh-pooh theory, "That’s how words arise.")
In ding-dong
theory, Man reverberates with Nature’s tone.
(Of all these theories, ding-dong seems most largely overblown.)
In ta-ta theory – one the linguists know as yo-heave-ho –
Man’s tongue mimes gestures made while he hoes yet another row.
(Of all these theories, ding-dong seems most largely overblown.)
In ta-ta theory – one the linguists know as yo-heave-ho –
Man’s tongue mimes gestures made while he hoes yet another row.
In la-la-theory,
Man’s inspired by playfulness and love.
But one new theory’s superseded all of the above.
In womp-womp theory, language starts when certain soulless men
poke fun at children’s suffering. It’s happening again.
But one new theory’s superseded all of the above.
In womp-womp theory, language starts when certain soulless men
poke fun at children’s suffering. It’s happening again.
Wednesday, June 20, 2018
"To win at Acey-Deucy, hang loose! Play loosey-goosey!" The Rules of the Games: A Constrained Nonsense Alphabet
To win at Acey-Deucey,
hang loose! Play loosey-goosey!
hang loose! Play loosey-goosey!
(Such state’s
achieved,
it’s now believed,
binge-viewing “I Love Lucy.”)
You'd play great games of Bocce?
First, migrate to Karachi.
There, register
as one “Monsieur
Wladziu Liberace.”
A dominance in Chess
(a challenge, I confess),
requires, first off,
that rivals doff
all peasant Chechen dress.
You'd call the shots at Draughts?
Swipe decommissioned rafts –
or purchase some
from my old chum,
ex-counterman at Schraft’s.
A Euchre win’s your goal?
Abandon rigmarole.
Begin by sitting,
briskly knitting,
‘neath yon totem pole.
Pre-teens you’d beat at Fish?
Repeat three times this wish:
“That each kid plays
like Helen Hayes,
not Dot or Lill’an Gish.”
To “first” in Hare and Hounds
may take you sev'ral rounds.
If you’re the hare,
exhibit flair:
run rivals out of bounds!
Hear “I Spy something yellow”?
All's cool if you’ll but bellow:
“What’s in your hand?
A Krugerrand?
Oh, Lord! It’s Limoncello!”
No winning Janggi tourney
was won without a journey.
You're not Korean?
I’m foreseein’
hirein’ an attorney.
Who loves Kings in the Corner
(unless he’s born a fore’gner)
must learn to play
while sitting (say)
with Muffet...or young Horner.
You’ll like relearning Ludo.
First, take a class in judo.
Then my advice
is: nick both dice --
lest mucho ‘scudo you’d owe.
Were mastering Mahjong
to sound its siren song,
grab sev’ral tiles –
indeed, grab piles!
(Hey! Would I steer you wrong?)
Who’d shine at Nine Men’s Morris,
avoiding suff’ring tsoris,
just needs to own,
“I’m not alone.”
(Relax, man! Join the chorus!)
To medal in Othello
needs top-notch personnel. Oh,
and ev’ryone,
when all is done,
says you’re one med’lin’ fellow.
To mold Parcheesi mavens,
eight states establish havens.
Check into one!
Before you’re done
you’ll quench Parcheesi cravin’s.
You’d take the cup at Quoits,
which trophy was Detroit’s?
You’ll first replace
the trophy case,
one formerly Jon Voigt’s.
One’s best approach to Risk?
Keep operations brisk!
Each piece deploy,
thereby destroy-
ing rivals' royal fisc!
A "going out" in Scrabble
attracts no hacks nor rabble.
The dudes who win
all go “all in.”
It’s just the duds who dabble.
You’d mess about with Twister?
You'd better watch it, mister!
Your threadbare bott'
be not the spot
to cultivate a blister.
Your Uncle Wigg’ly player
(no players known are feyer)
abides a rut
and’s nutty – but…
I’ll neither “Yea!” nor “Nay!” her.
Who likes Paletti, Villa
(or else vice versa) will a-
pprove more games
with lamer names –
‘Charibdis,” say…or ‘Scylla.’
Who’d set his sights on War?
A nincompoops, Senor,
might grab a gun
but find no fun
upon a foreign shore.
Who wins her “ins” in Xeko
boasts sheets of Marimekko.
She also owns
five valve trombones
and runs a speckl’d gecko.
You wish to win at Yahtzee?
Avoid the paparazzi:
They’re hotsy-totsy,
and ex-Nazi!
Join your local ROT-C!
Zoom Schwartz Profigliano!
A game for real…or guano?
It’s real, no schmooze:
best play'd with booze.
(Do not play man’-a-mano.)
it’s now believed,
binge-viewing “I Love Lucy.”)
You'd play great games of Bocce?
First, migrate to Karachi.
There, register
as one “Monsieur
Wladziu Liberace.”
A dominance in Chess
(a challenge, I confess),
requires, first off,
that rivals doff
all peasant Chechen dress.
You'd call the shots at Draughts?
Swipe decommissioned rafts –
or purchase some
from my old chum,
ex-counterman at Schraft’s.
A Euchre win’s your goal?
Abandon rigmarole.
Begin by sitting,
briskly knitting,
‘neath yon totem pole.
Pre-teens you’d beat at Fish?
Repeat three times this wish:
“That each kid plays
like Helen Hayes,
not Dot or Lill’an Gish.”
To “first” in Hare and Hounds
may take you sev'ral rounds.
If you’re the hare,
exhibit flair:
run rivals out of bounds!
Hear “I Spy something yellow”?
All's cool if you’ll but bellow:
“What’s in your hand?
A Krugerrand?
Oh, Lord! It’s Limoncello!”
No winning Janggi tourney
was won without a journey.
You're not Korean?
I’m foreseein’
hirein’ an attorney.
Who loves Kings in the Corner
(unless he’s born a fore’gner)
must learn to play
while sitting (say)
with Muffet...or young Horner.
You’ll like relearning Ludo.
First, take a class in judo.
Then my advice
is: nick both dice --
lest mucho ‘scudo you’d owe.
Were mastering Mahjong
to sound its siren song,
grab sev’ral tiles –
indeed, grab piles!
(Hey! Would I steer you wrong?)
Who’d shine at Nine Men’s Morris,
avoiding suff’ring tsoris,
just needs to own,
“I’m not alone.”
(Relax, man! Join the chorus!)
To medal in Othello
needs top-notch personnel. Oh,
and ev’ryone,
when all is done,
says you’re one med’lin’ fellow.
To mold Parcheesi mavens,
eight states establish havens.
Check into one!
Before you’re done
you’ll quench Parcheesi cravin’s.
You’d take the cup at Quoits,
which trophy was Detroit’s?
You’ll first replace
the trophy case,
one formerly Jon Voigt’s.
One’s best approach to Risk?
Keep operations brisk!
Each piece deploy,
thereby destroy-
ing rivals' royal fisc!
A "going out" in Scrabble
attracts no hacks nor rabble.
The dudes who win
all go “all in.”
It’s just the duds who dabble.
You’d mess about with Twister?
You'd better watch it, mister!
Your threadbare bott'
be not the spot
to cultivate a blister.
Your Uncle Wigg’ly player
(no players known are feyer)
abides a rut
and’s nutty – but…
I’ll neither “Yea!” nor “Nay!” her.
Who likes Paletti, Villa
(or else vice versa) will a-
pprove more games
with lamer names –
‘Charibdis,” say…or ‘Scylla.’
Who’d set his sights on War?
A nincompoops, Senor,
might grab a gun
but find no fun
upon a foreign shore.
Who wins her “ins” in Xeko
boasts sheets of Marimekko.
She also owns
five valve trombones
and runs a speckl’d gecko.
You wish to win at Yahtzee?
Avoid the paparazzi:
They’re hotsy-totsy,
and ex-Nazi!
Join your local ROT-C!
Zoom Schwartz Profigliano!
A game for real…or guano?
It’s real, no schmooze:
best play'd with booze.
(Do not play man’-a-mano.)
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
"The Bear and others..." Four Animals (Illustrated Images)
 |
Top to bottom:
Bear; Mandrill; Chimpanzee; Camel
Colored pencils on illustration board
12" x 12"
|
"Balk'd Dante Gabriel Rossetti: 'Actors all adored Arletty...'" Rossetti Libretti: A Constrained Nonsense Alphabet
Balk’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Actors all adored Arletty.
Buddha bomb'd. Banned’s Bouncing Betty.
Bumm'd? You bet!"
-- Rossetti
Squawk’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Calder color codes confetti.
Done to death's damn’d Donizetti.
Paid his debt..."
-- Rossetti.
Blabb’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Each ‘n’ ev'ry etching’s Eddie.
‘Frickin’ fruit,’ foam’d Ferlinghetti.
‘C'est ma fete!’” *
-- Rossetti
* It's my party -- I'll decry if I want to.
Gabb’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Getty's grabb’d my Giacometti.
Hire some 'hound! hire Wainthropp, Hetty!
('T'swhat I get.)"
-- Rossetti
Ink’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Imre couldn't swim. Instead, he
found Bea’s dinghy by the jetty.*
Game and set!"
-- Rossetti
* Lilly line from film classic “On Approval”
Wink’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Singer Ketty, scribbler Letty,
thespi'n Freddie, pharaoh Seti:*
tetes-a-tetes!"
-- Rossetti
* Lester, Cotton Pogrebin, Prinz, Jr. (sick!),
Menmaatre (sic)
Mused Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Mis-matched: Mario Andretti's
mash notes (mese, trite, nete...)?*
Get the net!"
-- Rossetti
* Three pitch indicators from an antique
Greek musical system (as if you didn't know).
Schmoos’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Op-eds? On one's Olivetti?
Paints a pretty paltry -- petty! --
picture, pet..."
-- Rossetti
Reel’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Quite the "ultimi quartetti":
Ax, Bell, Chang, Ma! Are you ready?"*
(Flag'olet?
...Rossetti*)
* Emanuel on piano, Bell and Chang
on first and second violins, Ma on 'cello...
* ...and Dante Gabriel himself sitting in
on fipple flute.
Spiel’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
" Saucers, stalled o'er Serengeti,
seen by science sods from SETI,
pose no threat..."
-- Rossetti
Scrawl’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Spermaceti-spiked spaghetti!
Spilt sour sauce all down my teddy...
...need laundrette..."
-- Rossetti.
Drawl’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"After Uly'd up and 'e't, he'd
vomit: veddy viral! Veddy!
Phone the vet!"
-- Rossetti
Crack’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
" Wraiths of a monastic Wetti*
were, for sure, X-rated. Yet he
did not fret..."
-- Rossetti
* Wetti's full story can be found
in the Wikipedia article "Visio Wettini."
Yak’d Dante Gabriel Rossetti:
"Yes, I've yearn’d to bag a Yeti
eatin’ ziti (mispell'd 'zeti')."
(How all wet's
Rossetti...?!)
"Once the world was but fire or earth, water or air..." E Equals... or Physics Schmysics!
Once the world was but fire or earth, water or air.
'Twas when He was Head Honcho. Dissenters were rare.
Then a diff’rent reality Albert E. bared:
it seems e equals m times the speed of light squared.
Cast your mind back to Einstein, of mad-as-March hair.
To eschew Albert’s “view of the u”? Who dared dare?
Yet some did disagree: I, for one, bellowed, “Merde!
Are you kiddin’ me? Energy’s m times c squared”?
What else? Dark matter? Black holes? Quarks everywhichwhere?
Leapin’ leptons? Bad bosons? Far fruitier fare?
My Old Testament cosmos can ne’er be repaired –
not when energy’s mass times the speed of light squared.
Other cosmoi in parallel? Damn’d if I care!
Does my clock slow the faster I go? C’est la guerre!
I’d prefer Al’d not shared. I’d much rather be spared
each new round that compounds “E be (zounds!) mc²”
'Twas when He was Head Honcho. Dissenters were rare.
Then a diff’rent reality Albert E. bared:
it seems e equals m times the speed of light squared.
Cast your mind back to Einstein, of mad-as-March hair.
To eschew Albert’s “view of the u”? Who dared dare?
Yet some did disagree: I, for one, bellowed, “Merde!
Are you kiddin’ me? Energy’s m times c squared”?
What else? Dark matter? Black holes? Quarks everywhichwhere?
Leapin’ leptons? Bad bosons? Far fruitier fare?
My Old Testament cosmos can ne’er be repaired –
not when energy’s mass times the speed of light squared.
Other cosmoi in parallel? Damn’d if I care!
Does my clock slow the faster I go? C’est la guerre!
I’d prefer Al’d not shared. I’d much rather be spared
each new round that compounds “E be (zounds!) mc²”
"Adieu, au revoir, bat 'n' budgerigar..." Two-By-Two Toodle-oo! or See Ya! A Round
Adieu, au revoir, bat ‘n’ budgerigar.
But don’t lease no compacts from Hearse Rend-A-Car.
Bye-bye, bon voyage, fox ‘n’ folles sans la cage.
Who arrives in a Rolls might depart in a Dodge.
Cha wil’awib, ciao, mink ‘n’ manatee cow.
Take the A train to Haarlem. (Take our LEM? Nohow!)
Dwell “sweetly at home,” ray ‘n’ rath known as ‘mome.’
We know fellas who’ll sell y’as a sled. Get to know’m!
Egogahans, exeunt, dalmatian ‘n’ dachshund.
Get gas as you pass The Hind Quarter in Dortmund.
Farvael, fare thee well. tit ‘n’ Thompson’s Gazelle.
If you fail to go ‘way, then (we pray), “Go to hell!”
Gorusaedaek, godspeed, cat ‘n’ centipede. We’d
rather loudly “ya-wo’d” ye. (What mo’ do yobs need?)
Hasta pronto, ha’uu, gila monster ‘n’ gnu.
Put to sea, mes amis! (Use our racing canoe.)
Ite, te! Missa est, roc ‘n’ robin red breast.
Rockin’ Robin’s your tour guide. Rob’s bromide? “Go west!”
Je voudrais – oui! -- aller, boar ‘n’ Bichon Frise
“De-“ no “-tour” till we’re sure you’re both far, far away.
Kiss my kisser goodbye, toad ‘n’ tsetse fly. Hie
thyselves hence, b’yond yon fence till you’re where tongues speak Thai.
Lla yhennik und lebewohl, bee ‘n’ B. Oriole.
Gondolas? Coming. Start humming that barcarole.
Mangadem, miss you, too, salamander ‘n’ shrew.
Drive our Daewoo Lacetti. It’s ready: are you?
Ndaga and nighty-night, wombat ‘n’ white-tailed kite.
Your ship has sailed? Hail the mail stage; it’s dynamite!
Onward and ou’ward, cabrilla ‘n’ cowbird.
Please pick our jihrik’sha; it’s not under-powered.
Pothu barp,’ pax vobisc!, bison ‘n’ basilisk
Post haste! Our post chaise is free. (View this compact disc.)
Qaukpattauk, q’ipurkama, leipoa ‘n’ llama.
“Good day!” (We’ve a way with the inverted comma.)
Rononai, ‘rivederch, Pygmy Pig, Yellow Perch.
Run ‘n’ hide! We’re not snide: we’ll be [wink] sure to search.
So long, sayonara, canard, capybara.
They’ve barred your canard? Hire our Proton Tiara.
Ta-ta, tootle-oo, chimp ‘n’ cocka-…yeah: you!
We’ll start countin' to ten: an’ a one, an’ a two…
Up, up ‘n’ away, crow ‘n’ Canada Jay.
Climb aboard our used Ford...but we won't wait all day.
Vaarwel, viva vale, canary ‘n’ collie.
By bus? Aye, you mus.’ Pro hac vice, by golly.
Wog maho, you’re outta here, walrus ‘n’ white-tailed deer.
If you malinger? This finger! (Your souvenir.)
Xu! Xulap knewel, sifaka ‘n’ spoonbill.
Not worn out your welcome yet? Fret not: you soon will.
Yanta kar, yanna, yanna, pouch’d rat ‘n’ piranha.
Don’t sit! Instead, split! (Not banana. Manana!)
Zayt gesunt, ziech lu, kakapo, kangaroo.
Bonne journee! Go away! Catch ya later! Adieu!
(Two by two, toodle-oo!)
Bye-bye, bon voyage, fox ‘n’ folles sans la cage.
Who arrives in a Rolls might depart in a Dodge.
Cha wil’awib, ciao, mink ‘n’ manatee cow.
Take the A train to Haarlem. (Take our LEM? Nohow!)
Dwell “sweetly at home,” ray ‘n’ rath known as ‘mome.’
We know fellas who’ll sell y’as a sled. Get to know’m!
Egogahans, exeunt, dalmatian ‘n’ dachshund.
Get gas as you pass The Hind Quarter in Dortmund.
Farvael, fare thee well. tit ‘n’ Thompson’s Gazelle.
If you fail to go ‘way, then (we pray), “Go to hell!”
Gorusaedaek, godspeed, cat ‘n’ centipede. We’d
rather loudly “ya-wo’d” ye. (What mo’ do yobs need?)
Hasta pronto, ha’uu, gila monster ‘n’ gnu.
Put to sea, mes amis! (Use our racing canoe.)
Ite, te! Missa est, roc ‘n’ robin red breast.
Rockin’ Robin’s your tour guide. Rob’s bromide? “Go west!”
Je voudrais – oui! -- aller, boar ‘n’ Bichon Frise
“De-“ no “-tour” till we’re sure you’re both far, far away.
Kiss my kisser goodbye, toad ‘n’ tsetse fly. Hie
thyselves hence, b’yond yon fence till you’re where tongues speak Thai.
Lla yhennik und lebewohl, bee ‘n’ B. Oriole.
Gondolas? Coming. Start humming that barcarole.
Mangadem, miss you, too, salamander ‘n’ shrew.
Drive our Daewoo Lacetti. It’s ready: are you?
Ndaga and nighty-night, wombat ‘n’ white-tailed kite.
Your ship has sailed? Hail the mail stage; it’s dynamite!
Onward and ou’ward, cabrilla ‘n’ cowbird.
Please pick our jihrik’sha; it’s not under-powered.
Pothu barp,’ pax vobisc!, bison ‘n’ basilisk
Post haste! Our post chaise is free. (View this compact disc.)
Qaukpattauk, q’ipurkama, leipoa ‘n’ llama.
“Good day!” (We’ve a way with the inverted comma.)
Rononai, ‘rivederch, Pygmy Pig, Yellow Perch.
Run ‘n’ hide! We’re not snide: we’ll be [wink] sure to search.
So long, sayonara, canard, capybara.
They’ve barred your canard? Hire our Proton Tiara.
Ta-ta, tootle-oo, chimp ‘n’ cocka-…yeah: you!
We’ll start countin' to ten: an’ a one, an’ a two…
Up, up ‘n’ away, crow ‘n’ Canada Jay.
Climb aboard our used Ford...but we won't wait all day.
Vaarwel, viva vale, canary ‘n’ collie.
By bus? Aye, you mus.’ Pro hac vice, by golly.
Wog maho, you’re outta here, walrus ‘n’ white-tailed deer.
If you malinger? This finger! (Your souvenir.)
Xu! Xulap knewel, sifaka ‘n’ spoonbill.
Not worn out your welcome yet? Fret not: you soon will.
Yanta kar, yanna, yanna, pouch’d rat ‘n’ piranha.
Don’t sit! Instead, split! (Not banana. Manana!)
Zayt gesunt, ziech lu, kakapo, kangaroo.
Bonne journee! Go away! Catch ya later! Adieu!
(Two by two, toodle-oo!)
"Hex: some Pennsy-Dutch decor. Wiz: Oz oligarch of yore..." Seven Corpses (Exquisite-type): Constrained Nonsense
Corpse One: Hex/Wiz/Seat/Corpse
Hex: some Pennsy-Dutch décor.
Wiz: Oz oligarch of yore.
Seat: soft spot when butts are sore.
Corpse: one damn cadaver.
Corpse Two: Hecht's/Whiz/It/Corpse
Hecht's: defunct department store.
Whiz: that ersatz cheese you pour.
It: part Bow,* part Addams lore.**
Corpse: yes, ma'am: cadaver.
* Clara the It Girl
** The Addams Family's cousin It.
Corpse Three: Egg/Squeeze/"Sit!"/ Corpse
Egg: what comes before the chick.
Squeeze: a baseball bunter's trick.
"Sit!": command to Spot or Vic.
Corpse: grand-slam: cadaver.
Corpse Four: Aix/Quiz/Zit/Corpse
Aix: The Great Chas* knew it best.
Quiz: a small exam, a test.
Zit: no adolescent jest.
Corpse: press'd ham: cadaver.
* I.e., Charlemagne with reference
to his palace complex at Aachen
Corpse Five: Haig's/Swiss/Hit/Corpse
Haig's: "This junk belongs to Al."
Swiss: not unlike Emmenthal.
Hit: ...but who would shoot a pal?
Corpse: lost lamb: cadaver.
Corpse Six: Aches/Oui!/Sid/Corpse
Aches: first fruits of one's malaise.
Oui!: like 'si!' but en Francaise.
Sid: from TV's golden days.*
Corpse: Vet (Nam) cadaver.
* Caesar (the comic not the emperor)
Corpse Seven: X/Wheeze/Zed/Corpse
X: Abu Kamil's* unknown.
Wheeze: how labor'd breathing's shown.
Zed: initializes 'zone.'
Corpse: Go! Scram, cadaver!
* One Arabic algebr'ist
Hex: some Pennsy-Dutch décor.
Wiz: Oz oligarch of yore.
Seat: soft spot when butts are sore.
Corpse: one damn cadaver.
Corpse Two: Hecht's/Whiz/It/Corpse
Hecht's: defunct department store.
Whiz: that ersatz cheese you pour.
It: part Bow,* part Addams lore.**
Corpse: yes, ma'am: cadaver.
* Clara the It Girl
** The Addams Family's cousin It.
Corpse Three: Egg/Squeeze/"Sit!"/ Corpse
Egg: what comes before the chick.
Squeeze: a baseball bunter's trick.
"Sit!": command to Spot or Vic.
Corpse: grand-slam: cadaver.
Corpse Four: Aix/Quiz/Zit/Corpse
Aix: The Great Chas* knew it best.
Quiz: a small exam, a test.
Zit: no adolescent jest.
Corpse: press'd ham: cadaver.
* I.e., Charlemagne with reference
to his palace complex at Aachen
Corpse Five: Haig's/Swiss/Hit/Corpse
Haig's: "This junk belongs to Al."
Swiss: not unlike Emmenthal.
Hit: ...but who would shoot a pal?
Corpse: lost lamb: cadaver.
Corpse Six: Aches/Oui!/Sid/Corpse
Aches: first fruits of one's malaise.
Oui!: like 'si!' but en Francaise.
Sid: from TV's golden days.*
Corpse: Vet (Nam) cadaver.
* Caesar (the comic not the emperor)
Corpse Seven: X/Wheeze/Zed/Corpse
X: Abu Kamil's* unknown.
Wheeze: how labor'd breathing's shown.
Zed: initializes 'zone.'
Corpse: Go! Scram, cadaver!
* One Arabic algebr'ist
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