More Profiles in Textiles

Profiles in Textiles: Men of the Cloth 

Israeli PM Bibi Netting-Yahoo

Colored Pencil on Canvas Overlaid with Plastic Mesh

16" x 20"

SasqSwatch
   or Big Foot Descending a Staircase
Woven Textile Strips Glued to Canvas
16" x 20"

Bananagraffe on H E R B I N D I

A Banagraffe on H E R  B I N D I

Sing at me, Muse, of that blue-bloody deb

and her costar, cross lover el socio Reb.
Si! Si! Sing at me, Spirit! Behave as you're bid!
Sing the whole enchilada -- nor leave nada hid --
of how, in the beginning, an ear-splitting din

(though ears hadn't evolv'd yet) had put kinfolk in
an estate of great pain. (I retired to my bed,
as did Auntie McAsser with Great Uncle Ned.)

   
Cousin Bella, as well, towards her hammock did hie,

crying, "Christopher Coulomb! I wanna not die."

(As regards that above-noted op'ning in re

its deep drum-deaf'ning din: who's responsible, eh?
At whose feet lies the blame for this circumstance dire?
To find out, do I need to some Holmes homie hire? 
Of a sudden (in answer?) the welkin ran red,
as up, out of the wine cellar, clump'd Señor Ed.

Oh, I know what you're wond'ring: "So: who in hell's he?

Mainly Spanish? Mad-manish? Sheesh! Who can he be?" 

Sui generis, clearly -- not one o' the herd.
Señor Ed was a one-off, one curious bird --

a Reb rooster, in fact, one in search of his hen

as he lurches -- on crutches! -- up out of his den.
In the meantime, the daughter of Protoplast's rib
spots, then mocks, Señor Cock-a-doo's upstanding nib.

"Do I pluprefer deer? Bucks? Stags? Even a hind?
'Deed I do." (As would you when you'd find ties that bind.)  

Thus, suppressing her ego while boosting her id,
Bella moo'd, “Of unsuitable grooms I’d be rid.
So: shall you I wed? Never! With Ed I'd not bide.
I dare not even date you, much less be your bride."
Though its tale shan't now go 'round some "That's a wrap!" bend,
this ballade of the Muse comes not quite to its end.

As was promis'd, Ms. Muse shall no nicety hide

as she takes us on one Harpomarkable ride.
Nor shall, while at her "fable"ous table we dine,
Ms. Muse serve us, instead of a Pinot, white brine: 
Bella ships out for one or another East Indie,
on which fertile isle Bella bags her her bindi. 

A Split Bananagraffe as Coda:

(Materials, none with qualified rhymes, to be incorporated: a work in progress)

I  Idi  her ER rind rend herb 
ibid nerd bier en diner hinder binder

Mods and/or Rockers?

Which the Rocker? Which the Mod? Barack O'B? Marquis de Sade?
Broccolini? Sweeney Todd? Which the Rocker? Which the Mod?

Which the Mod and which the Rocker? SPAD? Some New York Knickerbocker? 
Serling, Rod? & Gamble Proc'er? Which the Mod and which the Rocker? 

Which the Rocker, which the Mod? P. D. Q. Bach? Scheherazade?
H&R Block? Gen'ral Zod? Which the Rocker? Which the Mod?

Which the Mod and which the Rocker? People of the Pod? Joe Cocker?
Wynken? Blynken? Nod? Dan Blocker? Which the Mod and which the Rocker?

Which the Rocker, which the Mod? Gaylord Focker? al-Assad?
Les Ballets Trockadero? God? Which the Rocker? Which the Mod?

Which the Mod and which the Rocker? M. al-Sadr? Frere Jacques?
David Dodd? Miss Eve Teschmacher? Which the Mod and which the Rocker?

Which the Rocker, which the Mod? Oz's Tik-Tok? Putin, Vlad? 

Baby Doc? Ahmad Rashad? Which the Rocker? Which the Mod?

Which the Mod and which the Rocker? "Klaatu b'rada nikto"? Soccer? 
Prada? Du Printemps le Sacre? Which the Mod and which the Rocker?

  

Prosopogostichs on Tommy Wiseau

Not unpleasant to know...? Mr. Wiseau,
star, director et al of “The Room.”
Should you screen it, note well this proviso:
who’ll of fluff -- you...? -- this oiseau deplume...?
Tommy’s tunes...? Some ring true, some seem lies. So:
o'er his hist’ry does leeriness loom...?
Sure! Plus, further, was Tommy born Wiseau...?
Or is that Tom's Cold War nom-de-plume...?

Excuse Our Dust Dept.

Whazzup in the Sudbury Art Studio?

Three new caricatured canvases in the 
Profiles in Textiles: Men of the Cloth series 
are currently under construction. 
George Bernard Shaw?  Nope: George Bernard Shawl. 
Bibi Netanyahu? Nope: Bibi Netting-Yahoo. 
Robert Costa? Nope: Robert Coaster 
Each will each soon be hung on PlaysWell's walls.
Watch this space!

Another Voyage 'Round Archaedia: Journey III

A is for Alma, who’s altered her will.
B’s for Bob bragging, “I’m under the hill.”
C is for Constance who voted for Hoover.
D is for Den neither shaker nor mover.
E is for Emma. Her race? Almost run.
F is for Fenton who’s purchased a gun.
G is for Grace who has good days and bad.
H is for Hank: calls computers “a fad.”
I’s for Inez who has doctored her age.
J is for Johann: dementia, third stage.
K is for Kathryn a petulant scold.
L is for Lon whose great-granddaughter’s old.
M is for Max who’s developed a goiter.
N is for Nan: claims the gateman “annoy’d” her.
O is for Oz: keeps a floozie in town.
P is for Paula. Her toenails turned brown.
Q is for Quentin. Rose says that he died.
R is for Rose: claims the newspapers lied.
S is for Shirl: mixes hounds tooth with plaid.
T is for Tim who passed. (Bowser’s so sad.)
U is for Ulmer, who’s taken up snuff.
V is for Vaughn. “Vaughn! Get offa yer duf!”
W’s Walt, who tells sick shaggy dogs.
X is for Xeno: he posts tell-all blogs.
Y is for Yasser. His room has no view.
Z is for Zoe. We don’t know her; she’s new.

No Alvins

No Alvins call'd Ailey 
nor Babas call’d Ali 
got collar’d at "Occupy Gasoline Alley." 
No -kissangel, Bally-. 
No Rumpole de Bailey. 
No  :: .. : . :.: ... :: . . : . . :: : : :.: either. (Too Brailley.)
No "Serpent! (From hence shall he 
crawl on his belly.") 
No sesame bialy. 
No Sam's "Wooly Bully."
No Elli-
ot, Billy. 
No John ne "-corn, Barley-." 
(Brash brief Melvin Belli’s 
okay – but just barely). 
No Brahmins from Bolly-
wood bruising Brad's brolly 
while filming Brad brawling 
in ballrooms on Bali. 
Caught: Lassie the Collie 
cavorting in ceilidh 
while wildcatting coke for a cartel call’d Cali. 
Deploy’d at Da's Deli: 
in drag: "Hello, Dolly," 
one debuting daughters of Salvador Dali. 
Elle's Christmas equale, 
penn’d especiale, 
in Ely 
was pann’d as "a tad Emmentaly." 
Fat, fatuous Frawley 
erected a folly 
wherein he philander’d – folks felt, fairly freely -- 
until he f**k'd Fifi, one fierce femme fatale. 
"Game goalie -- 
no ghoul, he – 
vaults, gaily, 
each gully..." 
or so reads this galley 
proof. (What? A spoof? Golly!) 
His comet, call’d Halley, 
flies frequent as hail. He* 
just trolls his Noëls hailing 
IVs and Holly. 
Her Berryness (Hallé), 
our Holy 
of Holies, 
defiled on her Harley. 
(Heard howl’d? "-Leuia! Halle-.")
      * Sgt. N. (“Jim”) Smithe-Magee (the N stands for 'Natale')
Allama Iqbal. He ingests his ice lolly 
then misinflects 'Italy' 
(tags it 'I-tal-y'). 
Join’d: Fisher (Joely) 
with wa-a-a-ay too much jelly. 
She (formerly scrawny) grows brawny --though jolly. 
Kiss one: goddess Kali; 
Kristyna Kashvili;
the Senate's "-son, Hutchi-" aka Kay Bailey. 
La Langtry's a Lily 
and Eli's 
a Lily 
and Allen and Tomlin – each lovely, 
both Lilys. 
But Lorelei Lee, 
though not lowly, 
'sno Lily, 
and buds just won't bud for Jean-Baptiste de Lully. 
Mrs. Bloom's christen'd Molly, 
Ms. Meg's a Mulally, 
whilst Earhart's call'd 'Meeley' – 
or 'Millie' 
(or 'Mellie'). 
Ms. Bly is dress’d nattily, 
as is Naphtali. 
Undress’d? Censorinus (de die Natali).*
     * Infamous, of course, for composing in his birthday suit. 
One dragon call'd Ollie. 
One Taitz known as Orly: 
once tether’d together, a true "two ‘n’ only." 
Pass the pralines 
to Pauly! 
Punt pretzels to Pele! 
But, soft! Here's a U-turn: some cracker wants Polly! 
What sort (...qualis, quali...) 
be Great-uncle Quigley 
to level at Neville his poisonous quill, eh? 
"Retreat? Never! Rally!" 
rants Wall Street cop Raleigh. 
"Those kids were unruly!" 
(Still...leper spray? Really?) 
See Sally. 
Run, Sally! 
Run, silly 
Svengali! 
(They once jogg’d with others, but now they
sprint soli.) 
This thirteenth timbale 
near trebles our tally. 
Let's meet in St. Louis (clang-clang goes its trolley). 
Ulysses (called Uly) 
blows hot ukulele. 
His riffs and routines are esteem’d -- not unduly. 
Vern heard ‘cross the valley 
a thunderous volley: 
applause from Volturno, but boos from Vercelli. 
Where's Wonka-ther-Willy? 
Where's Monte-ther-Woolley? 
Where's Cleaver-ther-Wally? 
Died -- doin'-the'r-Wheelie.* 
     * A quartet of hommages a Edward Bear aka Winnie-ther-Pooh.
X fields 'Xiphoidally; 
Y yields '"Yardboid"ally.'*
Z...? 'Tis for 'Zigmund' (though not
Zigmundfreudally). 
     * In the manner (though without the Kansas City accent) of saxophonist Charlie Parker.