Some Who Lived Here (Unpub(

Some who lived here loved to lav.
Some who lav'd here lived to lave.
Some who laved here loved to leaf.
(Lief, who leaf'd here, lived to loaf.)
Some who loaf'd here loved to luffa.
Some who luffa'd lived to love.
Some who loved here lived to laugh.
None who laugh'd here loved to leave.

Moscow Mitch McConnell (Past)

Moscow Mitch. Oh, Moscow Mitch.
Why mime you Mother Russia’s pitch...?
A puppet-pawn of pinko guys...?
A pol in thrall to Putin’s bitch...?
 
Who motivates you, Moscow Mitch,
to Duma dig…? To demos ditch…?
To push processes penny-wise
and dollar-wise (and ruble-rich!)…?
 
What stimulates you, Moscow Mitch,
our Congress’s mandated niche
(their oversight) to char’cterize
as hoax…? As huntings of the witch…?
 
Whose pow’r’s allow’d you, Moscow Mitch,
to scratch your monetary itch…?
Who lets you, late, “aluminize”
your state, McConnovonovich…?

Moronic Adonics (Unpub)

They’re sonic. They’re phonic.
Laconic they ain’t.
They’re free of eubonics.
Their tonic’s most quaint.
 
Andra moi enne'-…*  
Avis tries harda.'
All is forgiven,
Angus MacGyva.'
 
* Opening of opening
to Homer’s Odyssey
 
Besame mucha.’
Buddhist vihara.
Best in the business...?
Beer an' a chasa.'
Change for a fiva'...?
Cabo San Luca.'
Call me a taxi,
callous Maria.
Down in the cella':
Duke o' Paducah.
Don't be a baby!
Do what ya hafta'! 
 
Ev'ry Septemba,'
each one's a winna'!
Early an' often... 
Easy, big fella'! 
Fifth o' Decemba.' 
Follow the leada.'
Faith of our fathers.
Fannie Lou Ha(y)ma.' 
Go tell Aunt Rhoda!
Gift o' the Maja.
Grow where you're planted,
Garrison Keilla.'
How do I love tha'...?
Hanging at MOMA,
higher an' higher.
Hollywood, Cala-. 
 
Ichthyosaura'...?
Ill with a feva.'
Is that a gun or...?
Iphigenia.
Jackie DeShanna'.
Jolly ol' Santa.
Jus' for a moment:
Jimmy Duranta. 
 
King o' the Khyba'.
Kansas...Missoura. 
Killing me softly...?
Kiss o' the Spida.' 
Lucy Ricarda,
Lolly Madonna:
love 'em or leave 'em...?
Leave 'em to Beava'! 
Martin Scorsesa.
Man o' La Mancha:
make mine a malted!
(Mostly Ma--martha.) 
Noli me tange'...
Night of the junta.
Never on Sunday.
North to Alaska!
Over the rainba.'
Onions an' liva.'
Onward an' upward.
(Oh-oh! Calcutta!) 
Please, Mr. Postma'.
Pride o' the Yanka.'
Play it again, Sam:
Prisoner o' Zenda.
Queequeg the Canni'-
question'd authora'-.
Quadrupedante*...
Quivver thy arra'!
 
     * Cf Virgil's Aeneid.
 
Rock, paper, scissa.'
Ring 'roun' the colla.'
Rightly or wrongly:
'Rriba, arriba!
Sandor van Ochra.
Sally Tomata.
Soup an' a sandwich.
Smoke if ya gotta! 
Ticonderoga...?
Tillie the Toila'...?
Timothy Leary...?
Try to rememba'!
Ursula Andra.'
Up the Establa'-!
Use it or lose it.
Under the rada.'
Vlad the Impala.'
Viva Zapata!
Visit the men's room...?
Vian con dia.'
Wind in the Willa'-...
Winnie Mandala.
We're in the money!
Who, when, where, whattha...?
X follows Dubya.
Xavier Cuga.'
X back in 'Xmas.'
X is for '"Xtra!"  
Yesterday's weatha': 
yellow (vanilla).
You'd better go now, 
Yuri Zhivaga.
Zachary Tayla'...
Zenith de Mila... 
Zippy the Pinhead...? 
Zum gali gala.
 
Ironic…? You bet! Yet they
honor constraint.
They’re moronic adonics.
They’ll brook no complaint.

Misunderstandings (Unpub)

Sie whispers, "Mitzva, dear." 
Er hears: "It’s Mitt's veneer."
When life’s this way, need damen bray
in Herren’s shell-like ear…?
 
Damen’s "Grow! Do well!"
Herr’n hear as "Go to hell!"
When aids are out, needs Lady shout
into Lord’s ear-like shell…? 

Men of the Cloth Poem (Unpub)

     Tease Mr. Tea...? I should not were I you,
lest that bloke begin quizzing you, “One lump or two…?”
     Sexual predator…? That’s Pillow Reilly,
whose lewdness winds up insufficiently wily.
     Linguist Foam Chomsky ‘s an activist, goad --
a philosopher, too. (Foam roams more than one road.)
     Alas! Sarah Huckabee Sandpaper’s here.
Hark as verisimilitudes (truths) disappear.
     (Bibi Netting-Yahoo needs
the Gaza Strip like you need Thneeds.)
     John Linen remarks, “I’m more famous than Jesus,”
which comment one half of the planet displeases.
     Tell Denim Elliott (Brit through ‘n’ through),
“Do auditions for black roles. You’re already blue.”
     No cager’s more dauntless than Kevin Garr-Net.
Is he NBA Hall of Fame stature…? You bet!
     Songs Burlap Ives sings (none coarse as his name)
tout, e.g., “…bitty tears”…,  “…jolly Xmas…” (They're lame.)
    They mock’d Tiny Tinfoil -- falsetto and all.
But then Tiny play’d -- live! -- at the Roy’l Albert Hall.
     Was Crochet Guevara a chum of Fidel…?
Crochet was…but that friendship did not serve him well.

Nine Men & Their Metiers (Unpub)

Leif deGunnet-Holme: 

state open-carry law opponent

 
Phil E. G. Stayke: 

sixth Borough short-order cook

Houston Knott-Rink: 

lapsed AA attendee

 
Pier E. Phewe: 

post-doctoral candidate

 
Harv S. d'Moone: 

Autumnal romantic

 
William ("Mo") DeLawne: 

refusnik landscape architect

 
Randy Marathon: 

lecherous long-distance runner

Otto Partz: 

mechanic's apprentice

Hugo Furst: 

reluctant food taster  

Paula Zahn's Memo to Drumpf (Pub'd)

      Dearest Drumpf My Dear Donald 

Hey, Don,
     Why’d Fred, Jr. eschew Al-

Anon…?
     Is your coif straw…? Or strawber-

ry blon’…?

     Do you know Maurer’s book The 

Big Con…?
     Why so high on each Mafi-

a don…?
     Must you constantly Rudy 

egg on…?

     Have you heard “Afternoon of 

a Faun”...?
     What to do when Dad’s big bucks 

are gone…?
     So: you’re braggin’ you bonk’d Gol-

die Hawn…?

     Give us word that you've heard of 

Inchon.
     All your “pussy-grab” gab was 

“jus’ jaw’n’”…?
     Who's your favorite Chinese...? Ku-

blai Kahn...?

     What went on on the south White 

Houselawn...?
     For how long can you stifle 

Melan-…?
     Why are french fries your sine 

qua non...?

     Still here…? Funny! I thought you’d 

moved on.
     Pravda’s printing you’re just Pu-

tin’s pawn.
     What's your thought on the quaint Q-

Anon...?

      Did you actually trust Doc-

tor Ron...?

     Who addresses you 'Daddy 

Drumpf-san'...?

     Will prevail the Afghan Ta-

liban...?

     Not if somebody phones the 

Ulan!

     Can your White House apprentice 

Vince Vaughn...?

     It sure can, with one wave of 

your wan’…

     Do you know any young boys 

named Xan...?

     Where'd your damn ball go...? Thither 

and yon...?

     All the best Kind regards, Paul-

a Zahn.

Ask the Magic A-to-Z Ball! (Pub'd)

     Be careful what you ask for. 

(And whom you ask.)

Q:________________...?
A: Ask again anon, Aristotle:
answers, as always, are
all askew and awry.
 
Q:____________________...?
A: Before beginning blatently
bothersome badgering, Boethius,
better briefly break, buddy.
 
Q: ______________________...?
A: Candidly, Copernicus, conditions 

continue cloudy. Can’t currently
comment.
 
Q: ________________________...?
A: Dubiosity...? Definitely done, 

dispelled! (Does Dr. Descartes doubt…?
Dammit, Doc! Don't! Dig...?!)
 
Q: _____________________...?
A: Enfin, Einstein, E equals ‘Erratic.’
Every easy explanation ends
enigmatically enshrouded.
 
Q: ________________________...?
A: ‘Fraid frequency’s failing, Fridugisus.
Follow-up forthwith -- Friday fortnight,
f‘rinstance.
 
Q: ___________________...?
A: Generally, Galileo, generating 

gross grilling gets guys' gonads 

gainsaid.
 
Q: ____________________...?
A: Holy ho-hum, Herr Heidegger!
Honestly, haven’t heard. (However,
heckling hardly helps, huh…?)
 
Q: ________________...?
A: Input’s inferior, Isidore. Its
interpretation is, I imagine,
incomplete.
 
Q: _________________...?
A: Jabberwocky’s just jargon,
Jung…jamais!
 
Q: ____________...?
A: Kindly, Kierkegaard,
kill kinky koans.
 
Q: ___________...?
A: Ludicrous, Leibniz!
Let’s (like) liaise later,
laddie.
 
Q: _______________...?

A: Merlin...? Maybe Monday.
Meantime, Mr. Moue, mark
my mouth: “Moo-oo-oot!”
 
Q: _______________________...?
A: Nope, not now, Nostradamus.
Nearer noon…? Nyet! Next November…?
Nein! Numquam! (Never!)
 
Q: _________________...?
A: Oracles…? Obscure, Origen.
Omens…? Outre.
 
Q: ______________...?
A: Please, Plato: pray put
philosophical posers politely.
 
Q: __________________...?
A: Quiet, Quine! Quit querying!
Quash queer questions qua
quarreling.
 
Q: ________________...?
A: Request roundly rejected,
Rousseau. (Right! Really!)
 
Q: ________________...?
A: Sorry, Socrates. Should’a
said somethin’ sooner.
 
Q: _____________...?
A: ‘Tis truly tough to tell,
Teilhard. Try this time
tomorrow.
 
Q: _________________...?
A: Unanswerable, Unamuno…
unless…
 
Q: ____________...?
A: View’s vague, Vico…
very! Vamos!
 
Q: ______________...?
A: Well would we wonder
why, Wittgenstein.

Q: _____________...?
A: Xenophon…? Xeno-…
XII...XI...X...

Q: ______________...?
A: Yesterday's yammering, 

Yockey, yields you your 

yearned-for “Yessir!s”
 
Q: ______________...?
A: Zeno…? Zeno?!
Zzzzzz…zzzz…zz…z...zz...z...