The Three Worst Haiku Ever (And Two Candid Reader Responses)

The dreadful haiku: 

One, two, three, four, five;
eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve: 
no seven; no six! 

A, C, E, G, I;  
J, L, N, P, R, T, V:
W and Y!  

Two, four, six, eight, ten;
twelve, fourteen, sixteen, eighteen: 
twenty, twenty-two!  

The EAH response: 

These ARE horrible. 
Did you spend much time on these...?
I hope not. Zowie! 

The DFH response: 

What's that awful smell...?
Is it these stinky Haiku...?
Oh my god: PU!

Tricksters Arachne and Br'er Rabbit Through Coyote and Daedalus With Footnotes in Verse: Exercises in Academical "Arachnarchy"

Presenting either the last word or the final straw in abecedarial academic verse. Herein the footnotes rhyme -- and have their own footnotes -- while the footnote numbers are not superscripted but are bold and rest right on the baseline. Talk about unorthodox!

     * Sgt. N. ("Jim") Smithe-Magee (the N stands for 'Nabokov') 

Form: The first line of each stanza introduces that verse’s key initial and a word initiated by it. There follows a second line, one referencing a notable trickster from the worlds of folklore or fiction, the initial cap of whose name also matches the verse’s key letter. Line three provides an informative segue between the characteristics or behavior of the trickster referenced in the second line and those of the bearer of one of the many aliases of Sgt Jim N. Smithe-Magee, an arch-trickster and the primary editor of the poem and its explanatory footnotes. Or, as often as not, all the rigors of the entire aforesaid formality are tossed to the winds. So much for form.

Method: (A) One anagram alias of Sgt. Smithe-Magee is selected from the PlaysWell document “Udderwise Known As” for use in line four. (B) A rhyming dictionary is consulted and the selection of words that rhyme with the selected name are examined. A four-syllable rhyming word (or, with a tweak to the form of the line, a three-syllable one) is selected for use in line one. (C) The name of a trickster from literature is selected. Line two is composed. (D) Line three is composed. (E) Items to be footnoted are selected and numbered. The footnote lines, whose rhyme and meter are identical to those of the principle lines, are composed. (F) Further necessary, though non-rhyming, footnotes are selected, numbered and lettered. These footnotes are composed.

Procedure: Read aloud if possible. Each verse begins with a large initial cap which should be screamed. Four trochaic lines are read in order at normal voice levels, followed by their footnotes, also trochaic, in order, although these footnotes’ numerals aren’t enunciated. The footnotes appearing further below (those enumerated by a numeral with lowercase letter appended) are not to be enunciated either but are merely to provide additional information or comment and thus are without regular meter.

Index of Openings: A is for anatomy… B is for behaviorist… C is for coincident… D must be for dodo’s egg… E…is it for epithet…? F may be for funnyman… G’s for Gandalf Greyhame, grig… H may be for holograms… I…is it for infamy…? (a work in progress)

The Verses: 

A is for 'anatomy.' [1]

Aunt Nancy's [2] nurselings (ar - a - ne -

i - dae [3] ) notch "knives" [3a] which nick the knee

of Sgt. N. ("Jim") Smithe-Magee. [4]


[1] Some organism's parts (i.e.,
one subset of morphology).
[2] A spider folk-name [2a] from SC [2b] 
(South Carolina, not Sud Cay [2c] ).
[3] Some taxo-terminology
for 'spider' (not for 'honeybee').
[4] An anagram for...hey, that's me! [4a] 
('Tis all a "grammarrangementcy." [4b] ) 


[2a]  'Aunt Nancy' is a corruption, heard in the southern U.S., of 'Anansi.' Both names refer to a character from West African and Caribbean folklore who, though a spider, often appears and behaves as a man -- or, as in this instance, a woman. 
[2b]  Pronounced "ess-see" you see. 
[2c]  A small island, man-made (and made-up), which surfaces, ala Nemo's Nautilus, now and again in Charleston's  harbour.
[3a]  'Knives' provides a metaphor for the more strictly anatomical 'fangs.' 
[4a]  The Sarge, in addition to being the blogger responsible for this and other posts on the PWWL site, is considered in many quarters to be quite the arch-trickster. As will be seen, he is known by an ABC's worth of aliases -- at least. 
[4b]  Said of letter rearrangements, as with anagrams, "...an area of expertise of Sgt. Jim N. Smithe-Magee's..." (the N stands for Nonsense). And with the mention of 'anagram,' the first verse comes full circle. But wait: There's more...much more. 

B is for 'behaviorist.' [1]

Br'er Rabbit…? [2] Nossir! Skinner's list

insists this critter's kin's [3] been kiss'd [3a]

by Shem G. ("Jet") Enigmamist. [4]


[1] A branch of Psych -- one Chomsky [1a] diss'd,
and Rachlin, [1b] too, in part, dismiss'd. 
[2] This trickster/rabbit shook his fist,
tried totalling T. B. [2a] -- but miss'd. 
[3] I.e., his relatives consist
of bluffers -- briefly, that's the gist. 
[4] An anagram for Teemingmist --
we mean J. ("Shag me!") Teemingmist. [4a] 

[1a]  Linguist Noam 
[1b]  footnote in the works
[2a]  None other than the wonderful Tar Baby, a character who makes his initial appearance in the Uncle Remus Stories of Joel Chandler Harris. 
[3a]  I.e., influenced. The word used here is the metaphorical 'kiss'd,'
[4a]  An anagram, as well, for Sgt. Jim N. Smithe-Magee.


C is for 'coincident.' [1] Coy-

-ote’s [2] counterfeits: Their bent…? To

magnify [3] the devilment of

one Miss Jammie G. (“The Gent”). [4]

[1] “Contemporary with” is meant
(at least, such is the po’m’s intent).
[2] Coyote’s Raven’s [2a] complement.
A trickster…more: A malcontent.
[3] To reinforce, i.e., augment,
chicaneries his crafts foment.
[4] Miss Jammie’s [4a] aka Clar’ Kent. [4b]
(Jam rents a pent [4c] in Stoke-on-Trent.)

[2a] Another Native-American trickster anthromorph.
[4a] An additional alias of arch-trickster Sgt. Jim N. Smithe-Magee (the N stands for 'Nobody').
[4b] I.e., Clare (or Clara) Kent -- in any case, neither is to be identified with nor any relation to Clark, aka Superman)
[4c] Short for penthouse apartment. (Embrace the irony -- i.e., a short word substituting for a tall residence.)

D must be for 'dodo’s egg.' Ol'

Daedelus, that Doric yegg, [1] laid

two [2] ; his dritt’ dodge [2a] “tugg'd the peg” [3] of

poor J. Stegman (“Mistie Meg”). [4]

[1] A dext’rous trickster, brim to dreg.
(Abandoned Crete for Winnepeg. [1a] ) 
[2] First one: Ic's wings [2b] (prognosis: Neg! [2c] ).
[2d] His next: Inventing mumblety-peg. [2e]
[3] A variant for 'pulled the leg.' 
You need one more? No dunning: beg!
[4] Aka Sgt. Jim (not Craig)
N. Smithe-Magee, [4a] Highpriest of Gleg. [4b]

[1a] A small island near Mykonos
[2a] I.e., his third scam (why it’s numbered in German remains undetermined)
[2b] Those mechanical ones fashioned for his son, Icarus
[2c] I.e., they proved unsuccessful
[2e] The so-called “game of the gods”
[4a] The infamous trickster, not to be confused with his brother Craig N. Smithe-Magee.
[4b] The squint, the sly look; routinely said of tricksters

Penn'd in the Fall, Folks (of 2016)

His aim’s to appall, folks.
He’s building a wall, folks. 
With thumbs short ‘n’ small, folks,
he tweets folderol, folks.
(So: how many Justices
will he install, folks…?) 

With gaze oozing gall, folks, 

he’s answ'ring fans’ call, folks,
which fans tend to brawl, folks,
and talk with a drawl, folks.
(So: which third-world dictators
does he enthrall, folks…?) 

His moll is a doll, folks.

His kids own the mall, folks.
His tales are all tall, folks -- 
though "Screwball!” some bawl, folks.
(So: when will his “telling it like it is”
pall, folks...?) 

In marts label'd Wal-, folks,

for toadies he’ll trawl, folks.
His druthers…? To loll, folks, 
or foist free-for-all, folks.
(So: if he’s elected,
what fate might befall folks…?) 

He never will crawl, folks,

nor will his rise stall, folks.
I’m fearful of Fall, folks.
Says he: “Fuck you all, folks!”
(So: which of his challengers
plans a withdraw’l, folks…?}

Meanwhile, who’ll opt

to him stop with a mawl, folks…?
And who’ll give their all, folks,
to see the man crawl, folks…?
Or move to Transvaal, folks…?
Or throw in the tow’l, folks…?
(So: what can be done
to make Don cry, “That’s all, folks…?)