"What's what follows all about? Herein's a hint: think 'Kilgore Trout'..." Fish Folk or Poissons of Interest: A Constrained Nonsense

What sounds like ‘fish’ but's spelt like ‘ghoti’? 
“Take the ‘f’ sound heard in ‘rough.’
The ‘i’ sound heard in ‘women,’” wrote he, *
“follows on. Then, sure enough,
the ‘sh’ sound heard in ‘nation’ ends it.” 

     * Ollier’s the ‘he’ who wrote it.
G. B. Shaw? He’s who defends it. 
(Spelling teachers love to quote it.)

What’s what follows all about? 

Herein’s a hint: think ‘Kilgore Trout,’

Kurt Vonnegut filet'd friend ‘Sturgeon’ – 

since when, new fish been emergin,’

fish folk finned and fish folk scaled 

(between swim fish folk swishy tailed:

a halibut, a crappie, a 

piranha, a tilapia).

From fish folk gilled through fish folk grilled, 

your fish-folk fancy’s here fulfilled

with fish folk gals and fish folk guys. 

(My wish? My fish you’ll recognize.)

Meet the maven of the mod: 

well-bread, world-wise wit Noel Cod.

Theda Barramundi’s error? 

Overdoing her mascara.

Mary Lamprey’s brother Charles: 

he helped her untie Shakespeare’s snarls.

Corbina Bernsen’s fatal flaw? 

His cry (“Fish Fry!”) on L.A. Law.

The Scotsman Edmund Halleybut? 

He claimed, “I comets tally, but…”

(CaNova, Judy? Fish folk? Sure, 

though most might now cut bait per her.)

     ("The More the Merrier") 

Joel McCrayfish plays the lead. 

Of DC lodging he has need.

Jean Garthur’s flat he would sublet. 

Alas! A tete-a-tete-a tete

ensues when Charles Cohoburn’s prying 

leads to “Bill”’s* arrest for spying.

“Moray the Merrier”’s a kick – 

though not a Prestiss Sturgeon flic.

     * Cohoburn’s character continually misidentifies 

McCrayfish’s character, regularly calling him Bill.

     ("Guys and Dolls") 

Detroit’s Miss Adelewife laments, 

“A poisson can develop cods.”

Her words are heard in “Gals and Gents” 

aka “Females, Fries and Scrods.”

And Damon Grunion’s uptown marks? 

But chum for Grunion’s downtown sharks.

Robin of Lox? The rich call it stealth. 

He gives to the poor. (Redistributed wealth?)

Celiakanth Cruz, Salsa Mater, 

sang before fish left the water.

Pesce, Joe? In Italy, 

he’s ‘Fish, Giuseppe,’ let’rally.

Abortion rights, as schooled fish know, 

were won by fish. (See “Wade v Roe.”)

(Your roe boasts fangs? Then I suppose he 

must be called Beluga Ghosi.)

“The girl…” -- I mean, “the fish next door” -- 

refers to Moray Tyler Moore.

McCalamari (first name? David): 

for a squid, quite well-behavéd.

Ringo Starrfish banged his drums 

in Liverpool’s aquariums.

“Among all porcine fish, he’s big.” 

(Discourse, of course, re Porgie Pig.)

He’s MVP come closeout games: 

who else but LeBronzino James!

She’s blonde of coif and blond of face 

and blonde of brain: meet Doris Dace.

In pools and pool halls, so state stats, 

he’s tops. He's Minnesota Sprats.

His ‘Sole’iness (that’s Francis, Pope): 

he’ll keep the oceans cool, we’ll hope.

Humphrey’s love was Bett Bacoral. 

All thought Bett “a pretty goral.”

Humph himself? He played the rogue: art-

houses shout, “Don’t miss TurBotgart!”

One filet be wa-a-a-a-ay too lean: 

it’s Mrs. Shrimpton’s daughter Jean.

Fish folk en France swim a la carte: 

(Napoleon Bonitoparte?)

To choc’lates, boxed, which we eat up, he 

likens life -- does Forrest Guppy.

“She’ll be apples! “ (Things are fine.) 

That’s Russell Croaker, spoutin’ Strine.

“…a doctor, not a saveloy,” 

shouts Star Trek medic “Bones” McKoi.

And what's BronZeno’s Paradox? 

A race between a pair of jocks.

Ira Gershfin’s coup de grace? 

To pen some words to Porgie and Bass.

If any fish can marry dark an’ 

light, Pierre Teilhard de Shark can.

Who’s seen swimming down the stream 

whilst lutenizing? Julian Bream.

You crave beluga caviar? 

You’ll slaver over Terry Gar.

D’ya dig this broadcast host’s aplomb? De-

clare, “I’m there for Coho Nnamdi.”

Fish turned philanthropic cove, he: 

Rock ‘n’ Rolldom’s Jon B’Anchovy.

“Booze won’t hurt. In fact, ‘twill hearten. 

Where’s the bar?” snorts Sardine Martin.

     ("Tom Sawyer" and Huckleberry Finn")

Twain’s a piscine catalogue: 

Tom Sawfish loves Aunt Pollywog.

One finds a Dolphin and a Duke. 

That Watson’s Jim survive’s a “fluke.”

Another Twain nomadic laddie: 

Huckleberry Finn ‘n’ Haddie.

As for Mark Twain’s alter egos: 

Samu’l Clamens goes where he goes.

Meet the Modern Jazz QuarTetra, 

playing Hal’but Hall etcet’ra.

“One might starve, were one to lack krill,” 

blurts a burly Bernie Mack’rel.

“Alewives eat their young.” Pure bollocks? 

Nope: a slur of Sidney Pollock’s.

Poster child fur Volk who’re vile? 

“Sieg Heil!” – Adolphin-Hitler-style.

Mein Fuhrerfish? Long dead and gone, 

as is his mistress, Eva Prawn.

One school of eels – including Seel, 

Greg van der Weel, Gibran, Khaleel,

and Paster Norman Vincent Peel – 

when jellied, makes a tasty meal.

Another school boasts Howard Keel, 

Sharque’eel O’Neel and Bradley Beel,

Patricia Neel and Brian Freel -- 

“suffish” for any angler’s creel.

(Though Eelvis Presley is an eel, 

to throw him back is no big deal.)

Or, grab your Old Bay and a fork! A 

fillet of Garcia l’Orca

hits the pan. (What’s on the grill? 

A bit of blackened Blenny Hill.)

Great logos don’t arrive en masse; 

they need design. (They need Saul Bass.)

Among Jurassic fish float four: 

there’s Watts-, Wood-, Keith- and Mickthy’saur.

(En arriere as “Mickth” blows harp? 

Terpsichorean Twyla Carp.)

“TV’s a wasteland!” Rin-tin-tin? No! 

Just a quote from Newton Minnow.

Ceta source which never fails? 

That’s Wiki-wizard Jimmy Whales.

[Failing to find puns for ‘perch,’ 

nor wishing to this verse besmirch,

I’d discontinued further search. 

Then took my bait did Thora Pirch.

Next, a fair, if falling, star: 

here’s Sonny’s chum cum child bride, Char.

Which fat fish swims the Rio Grande? O-

bese be fins of Marlin Brando.

Six-foot-six – one huge kahuna. 

Who but hoofer Tommy Tuna?

Dr. Seuss’s “One Fish Two Fish” 

pales near Jake and Elwood Bluefish.

Roles in “Cabaret” need nailing. 

“Emcee”’s one, so cast Joel Grayling!

Into tech, who took the plunge? 

One big one’s Eelon Muskellunge.

Which bro’s the BF Tintin had? Ach! 

Few as true as Captain Haddock.

(Schools of fish folk, by the way, 

team Aldo, Man and Martha Ray.)

Asked to i.d. baseball’s buddha, 

Yanks yell, “Yogi Berracuda!”

Myrna l’Oyster? Shucks! Long gone – 

though swimmin’ still be Walleye Shawn.

Through criminality’s “Who’s Who” 

floats Chinese villain Fumet Chu.

Who’d Gary Grouper teach to swim? 

(“Flash Gordon”’s Buster Crab taught him.)

Give, last, the Jesus fish a nod, 

aka “Ikthus/Son of Cod,”

which fish cries, “End thy pisces piece. 

My gospel’s “Catch, nor ne’er release.”

[I’d failed to further fish folk find 

when Salmon Rushdie rushed to mind.]

FIN