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Thursday, May 30, 2024

Size Matters

Too small, Drumpf's eyes, 
as are Drumpf's hands. 
(Not so Drumpf's thighs
and thyroid glands.)
Too long Drumpf's ties: 
couture Drumpf pans.  
     So: how now hangs 
Drumpf's danglydoo...?
Drumpf's sturms and drangs
provide no clue. 
Ms D harrangues
"Too tiny, too." 
     Too small, Drumpf's mind,  
each cell, each lobe. 
Drumpf's kindness-blind. 
(This boob's no Job.
Drumpf is a bigly
xenophobe.)
     Though small (Drumpf's fist)
Drumpf grabs the loot. 
Now Stormy's diss'd 
Drumpf's sissypoot:
"I've never kiss'd one 
more minute." 
 
     Coda 

Small as well...? 
Drumpf's handicap. 
(Drumpf cheats.) 
But bigliest 
of all...? 
Dumb crap Drumpf eats. 

Saturday, May 25, 2024

Ashurbanipal Bach

Ashur-
banipal Bach is a
student of Rock, a grand-
nephew of Johann Sebastian, 
who, when 
yet a young fellow, ar-
ranged for the 'cello his 
feint on the "Saint Matthew Passtian." 

Ashur-
banipal Bach keeps great 
time (like a clock: tock, tock, 
tick) so he's nicknamed 'Cartier.' 
Once, when 
op'ra was needed, folks' 
summons he heeded: his 
"Qarmen" recalls George Bizier.
 
Ashur-
banipal Bach channels 
Bartok, Beach, Bloch. Bach's "Toc-
cata for Glockenspiel"'s Grammy 
serves to 
put on the map a 'til-
now-unknown chap -- one An-
navarupa Rama Swammy.
 
Ashur-
banipal Bach I e-
lect not to mock nor to 
jeer but to merely take stock, 
through this 
partial parade, of the 
music he's made, boy and 
man: Ashurbanipal Bach.


Tuesday, May 14, 2024

Lost: An Abecedarial List

     Preface 
A Hare, caught power-napping, lost the race.   
A Family -- Robinsons -- lived lost in space. 
Below, you'll find some ancillary "Losts" 
reporting on assorted risks and costs.

    Lost Ark
Heedless Hebrews lost their ark. 
Jones the Gentile found it...
...whole but harb'ring half a dozen nasty 
Nazis nosing 'round it. 

     Lost Boys
When J. M. Barrie's lads get lost,
they light in Neverland. 
But when to go they make great show, 
their plans get Peter Pan'd. 

     Lost Cause
Dixie's kvellingrebels yelling,
"Abe we won't embrace!"
(But let's be clear: the issues here 
have all to do with race.)

     Lost Dog 
On Wednesday week, our family's peke 
(call'd Haydn's Sikh) went missing. 
Around the pound we found our hound, 
whence follow'd licks 'n' kissing.

     Lost Everything 
Nigh '29, nine mates o' mine 
who'd mucho moolah earn 
say "Boo!" to bears, buy "sev'ral" shares, 
then promptly crash 'n' burn.

     Lost Face
Embrace, Your Grace, your loss of face!
Admit your misdemeanor!
Begin to graze where (goes the phrase)
the muchas grass grows greener. 

     Lost Generation
Whose body "best of breed" defines...?
Pop Hemingway's...? Or Gertrude Stein's...?
Ms. Zelda's...? Or F. Scott Fitzgerald's...? 
Or Yanks who share their Paris Heralds...?

    "Lost Horizon" 
Shangri-la, where lamas 
with ur-consciousness commune:
half Himalayan health spa, 
half Tibetan Brigadoon.

     Lost Innocence 
Eve and worse-half Adam curse,
"Our Paradise is lost." 
"Dost thou regain it, shine or rain...?"
asks God. "Thou bet thou dost."

     Lost Job 
I lost my job so join'd a mob 
who, kvetching 'bout such losses, 
apace agreed: "Our basic need...? 
Erasing greedy bosses."

     Lost Klimt 
Who hid the Klimt...? Please drop a himt: 
'tis worth a mimt or more.
Had I that Klimt, I'd ne'er be skimt. 
(I've pray'd I didm't die poor.) 

     Lost Lenore 
A poet (Poe of Bal'imo'e) 
beheld a talking grackle. 
That verbal bird spoke but one word: 
it "Nevermo'e" would cackle.

     Lost Mittens 
When clueless kittens misplace mittens, 
each deserves a shakin.' 
When manic mousers lose their marbles, 
stronger steps get taken. 

     Los Nachos 
This AI I download 
sounds bursty: 
it blossoms; it mushrooms; it pops. 
Of "These nachos are makin' me thirsty" 
I'm suspizzious. (Here's hopin' it stops.) 

     Lostometer 
Columbus's lostometer 
proved faulty. Soon it fail'd. 
Been made had Chris aware of this, 
I know he'd ne'er have sail'd. 

     Lost Pluto
To me it's still a planet.
Though "experts" tried to pan it
and hatch'd a plan to ban it, 
en fin they had to can it.

     "Lost" Quotes 
"'Tis better to have loved and lost..."
"All's lost once losing dice are toss'd..." 
"Your bridges all are cross'd...? You're lost..." 
(Now...what's that 'lost road' line from Frost...?)

     Lost Rhino 
I'm not your av'rage wino, 
tho' I relish gettin' sauced. 
My fav'rite brew...? Lost Rhino. You...
and everyone: Get Lost! 

    Lost Souls 
Denizens of Dante's Hell, 
engraved by M. DorĂ©, 
appear more formidabl' today 
than did they yesterday.

    Lost Time 
You need to read how nostrils 
serve to spur a lad's recall 
when a sugar cookie's dunk'd 
into Great Auntie's tea 'n' all.

     Lost U-boat 
A submarine -- Sargasso Green 
and captain'd by von Grath -- 
was lately seen (where had she been...?) 
last ev'ning in my bath. 

     Lost Voice 
My infamous aesthetic voice, 
exhausted penning "List," 
the sound of which -- nor Pound nor Joyce -- 
shall, nonetheless, be miss'd.

     Lost Wax 
The lost wax process: adults say 
how even children do it. 
I've look'd it up and say, "No way! 
There's, oh, so much more to it."

     Lost Xiaomi 
Hark closely: I'll not tell you twice. 
Locate the page call'd 'Find Device.' 
(It's likely lurking in the Cloud.) 
Click 'Phone.' Then brace for something loud.

     "Lost (in) Yonkers"
Mercedes Ruehl, an actress who'll 
with spirit rule the day, 
as oft before, she has once more,
in Mr. Simon's play.

     Lost Zero 
Once Hirohito ax'd Bushido, 
Kenji flew his plane 
toward Yankeeland full throttle...and 
was heard from ne'er again. 

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

Ubi Meus Est Roy Cohn...?

"Oh, dear," we hear 
Herr Drumpf bemohn, 
"I seek no 
weak-will'd chaperohn!
America's 
combat zohn.
So, where, oh, where 
is my Roy Cohn...?"
    D'ya hear Drumpf drohn, 
"Where's my Roy Cohn...?"...?
My li'l litigious 
traffic cohn...?
No waffle cohn's 
my cornerstohn!
Oh, where, oh, where 
is my Roy Cohn...?
     "Where's my cologhn'd 
'n' coss'tted crohn...?
My cyclohn...? 
My kimohna'd clohn...?
You creeps can keep 
your cortisohn: 
I ne'er shall share 
my ohwn Roy Cohn."

Christmas Day: A Mare Egg...

     "A Mare Egg, Her Wrist, "Miss Two 'U'"