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Thursday, June 27, 2019

A Tragic Lack of Footwear & Other Disgraceful Constraints

It’s said the cobbler’s children have no shoes. That’s not the half of it.
It’s sad the cobbler’s children have no shoes. Upshot...? An alphabet.  

Arrestees’ angels...? No “Adieu”s.

Beer brewers’ babies boast no brews.
Commandos’ chickens cop no coups.
Directors’ dickenses...? No dues.

Extras’ enfants...? No “Et tu...?”s.
Flouters’ floor apes...? No “F. U.!”s
Gambians’ gremlins grab no gnus.
Hostess’s heirs...? No “How do!”s.

Iceman’s issue...? No igloos.
Jesters’ juveniles...? No jeuxs.
Keepers’ kids...? No kangaroos.
Lav attendants’ lambs...? No loos.

Milkmen’s moppets mint no “Moo-oo-oo!”s.
Nudges’ nippers nab no “Nu…?”s.
Ooglers’ offspring own no “Oo-oo-ooh!”s.
Pess’mists’ prog’ny pot no “Pooh!”s.

Quislings’ quizkids quench no Qs.
Rascals’ rug rats rate no ruse.
Sous chefs’ shavers stir no stews.
Touristiques’ toddlers...? No Toulouse.

Urges’ urchins...? No "Ubu"s.      
Voyeurs’ very young...? No views.
Wu Zaos’ womb fruit win no Wus.      
X-men’s xeroxes...? No xus.

Yes-men’s youngin’s...? No “Yes: you”s      
Zookeeps’ zebrafish...? No zoos.
Seems children lose, no matter whose,
and we're left here to sing the blues.

Aeneid Anagram Mania

I sing of arms and the man... ...not his farm and gas mine...  (This is a tale of heroes in war, not agribusiness and the energy sector.)