De Profunctus: 16 Isosyllabics Arrayed in Various Meters

To be or 

not to be

Red Ryder, 

Lash LaRue,

Hopalong 

Cassidy,

Tom Mix or 

you-know-who...?

If we two 

 are such stuff

 as daydreams 

 are made on,

 ought we not 

 check dandruff

 and basements 

 for radon...?

 It was The 

 Fest of Rhymes,

 writ 'cuz the 

 Hearsts loved slimes.*

 It was the 

 zest of limes -- 

 bits unre-

 hears'd, oft times.

    *Despite the content of this

      line in certain late mss, there 

      is no evidence that Mr. William 

      Randolph Hearst or anyone in 

      his family involved himself in  

      romantic liaisons with mimes.

      His practice of yellow journalism

      and his publishing of sensationalist

      items lacking truth is, however, 

      widely attested.   

 Drumpf well knew, 

 after all, 

 he'd expel, 

 if he sent

 devotees 

 up the mall,

 foul MAGA-

 niffy* scent.

     * Niffy is a British 

        informal adjective

        meaning ill-smelling, 

        malodorous and stinky.

When you wish 

upon a 

starving Ar-

menian, 

'tis hoped you're 

not gonna

wake up a 

Fenian. 

Aliens 

leaving a

multiple 

star system

might be seen 

grieving, a-

ware that you've 

just miss'd 'em.

I'm all through 

rereading

"The Moon in 

the Millpond,"

nor do I 

mind ceding

of Remus* 

I'm still fond.

     *That's Joel Chandler 

       Harris's fictional uncle.

What kills the 

Donaldsaur...?

Don't tell...? Like 

hell: just ask!

A Chinese 

virus -- or

my past-its-

sell-date mask.

Oh, to be 

in Skokie

now that Ni-

san is there!

(Much less o-

key-dokey

you'd find Ville-

franche-sur-Mer.)

Some surnames 

are so styled

with ages 

to concur.

Witness Ju-

lia Child.

Need more...? Vic-

tor Mature.

It takes much 

more than clams

raked up from 

ocean deeps

to feed His 

freakin' lambs 

as well as 

all His sheeps.

"O, Blesséd 

be all those 

who ride a 

cock-eyed horse

with hand bells 

on their toes."

(A quote of 

unknown source.)

'Toy boats' can-

not be said

ten times: 'twill 

twist the tongue.

'Boy totes,' though, 

can be read,

and 'bow ties' 

can be sung.

Imagin-

ary friend...?
A mitzva, 

heaven knows.
'Twill help you 

to upend 

imagin-

ary foes.

Some say in 

outer space

there's none to 

hear my scream.

That's not the 

only place:

'tis ditto 

in my dream.

 If one should 

 take the cash 

 and let the 

 credit go, 

 should not one 

 dump the stash, 

 lest it be-

 come de trop...?