might you, por moi,
amass aardvarks to sell
in Abel-Beth-Maacah? *
* Biblical authors write
of a wise woman
who once dwelt there but make no mention of a live animal market.
Be she t(hr)ower of babble?
Blame (blush) my bum habit,
my culpa! But...Abbie Boudreau’s
been a babbit!”
Cor! Here's Jorge Luis Borges!
Cor de l'Argentine eez Jor: "Heez
accidence enhances stories
cached een Chechen Cacci'tores!"
When AM added Daddy-O,*
dark DJ, to my rahdio,
they proved: extending feelers
can yield real emcees, not spielers.
* Chicago radio personality Holmes Daylie
Affairs of the fart
felt in far-off terrains
risk ripe redolence. (And
barely visible stains.)
Giggl’ing, one Googles
“three gaggles o' geese,”
crying, "Larry* and Sergey:*
please leave me in peace!"
* Page and Brin, founders of Google
‘High-hat,’ ‘high-hand,’
‘high-horse,’ ‘high holy days...’
'high-'…HAH! (A case of
“damn’d with freighted phrase.”)
Invoking my μους-, I (non-
Greek) sue for news: “Ανδρα
μαλαπολλ' εννεπα
μοι…”
Show Achilles? No! Showies and
tellies show Hellene Elle
Ilii* (Helen of
Troy).
* Genitive singular of 'Ilium.'
My menage during haj
during Raj (just for fun)
stanch’d my stutter.
Of "...jej-jej...jej-june..." they heard none.
Don’t vote to tax
Nicola’s Delft or Spode.
Just kick Nic’s knickknacks' taxes
down the road.
A-
board the good ship
Lollypop, life's good,
though sacch'rin smarm's the
stuff of songs of Shirl's.)
Still,
suckers: stop! Please
cease the siphonhood!
Such sucking saps o-
bese, balloon-shaped girls.
Your pharaoh dies,
befriends my goat –
the pair grows fairly chummy.
Then Nurse and Momma
shoot this film:
"The Nanny Meeps The Mummy."
A Fool shall not
for Mongoose vouch,
but Cobra choose.
How odd. How...OUCH!
Dr...Sergeant...chili...pot:
Stop! Put in more 'pepper'...Not!
Quick! Go
east on that Qarghaliq-
Qaraqum Trail: get good
Bar-B-Q Coq...and great
Bar-B-Q Quail,
* The direction travelled -- ENE, roughly --
between these Asian cuisine hotspots.
I.S.O. road or
driveway warrior?
Better call
the Brothers Boyer!*
* Junior relations of the author
All at sea in Seas Sargasso,
sailors may request a lasso.
Sassafras's gas shall pass,
but schlusselfiedels?* "Such a ass!" **
* Kinds of hurdy-gurdy **Pace, Mr. Dickens
Kitt's kit? That pattern’s
known as tattersall.
But I’ve left torn Kitt's
knit togs – tatters, all.
I'd
figured I'd bagg’d me a
gnu, up until
I'd looked
under the fur and found
you, Uncle Phil!
"Vav-vav-...vav...a vav-...va-v-...vavoom!"
(I hear a stutter! But from whom?
It’s Dona D-cup, I presume –
she of the fabulous ba-zoom.)
Who? Woodrow Wilson's widow.
Where? Near Wicklow West. What? Dead.
Now...when? Clews found suggest 'twas Sunday...
who knows why! How? Bled.
Mix xan-
thoma with rosacea: the re-
sulting skin disease
is what, when
six xiphopagi repaint the
xerox room, one sees.
To marry your mother
so many years back?
My mistake (don't talk back!)
Blame my yackety yak!
They sang "Zizzi-zizzi-...!" yesterday,
sang "...boom-boom-aay!" today.
What shall zyzzogetons* sing tomorrow?
Difficult to say.
* The very last word -- in South American leaf hoppers
and in my pocket dictionary.
