What Goes Around

 

Actual hand smaller than appears. 

Actual tie shorter than appears. 

Actual club crookeder than appears. 

Actual hair way way weirder than appears. 

Sympfauna: An Abecedarial Animal Orchestra

     ABC 

Antelopes play autoharps.

Bonobos blow their boatswain's call.
Cows play cowbell scales in sharps.

(Albino cows can play 'em all.) 

     DEF 

Dingoes play their daxophones.

Elephants...? Electric basses.

Fleas play F-flat flexatones. 

(I store mine in anvil cases.)

     GHI 

Sundays, gnus play guitarróne. 

On Saturdays, harmonica. 

(On weekdays, ANY id'ophone,

though shofars during Hannukkah.) 

     JKL 

Jays, in March, play jingle bells. 

In April, kites play key'd bassoon. 

July finds lemurs playing lute, 

though rarely in the month of June. 

     MNO 

In May play Mynas madrigals.

Nightingales play nu skool breaks. 

Ostriches play operettas. 

(Oh, what noise each ostrich makes!)

     PQ 

Pre-dawn, prawns pianos play.

At quarter past eleven, 

quahogs execute quintets. 

(They quit 'round ten of seven.) 

     RST 

Rhinoceruses racketts play. 

Do serpents play their serpents...? Sure! 

True: tadpoles play trombones (they say), 

though plagued with swollen  embouchure.

     UVW 

Urchins play their ukulele.

Vampire bats play vibraphone. 

Wallabies play washboard. (Hayley 

Mills would, too, were she full grown.) 

     XYZ

Xeruses, of course, play xun.

Yaks play yun-lo. (Nearly done.)

Zaks and zorses play their zither. 

Me...? I'm tone-deaf. I play none. 

The Week of the Walrus & (OPQ) (RST) (UVW) (XYZ)

     O

The walrus and the open quote 
"got sumthin' ta say."*
'Tain't nuthin' from "The Open Boat"**
or "Who'd Lay Fay Wray...?"***

(Let's hope the clause they quote won't cause 
no auto-de-fe.)

     

* Like To Kill a Mockingbird's Mayella.

**A short story by Stephen Crane. 
***A short short story by Uly Poe.

 
     P 

The walrus holds a pencil sketch, 

a nine-inch W. 

(Already render'd 

in his hand-drawn ABC are Q, 

D, X and G -- which leaves the Z

'mongst letters left to do.)

     Q

The walrus tells the quarter rest: 

"Kick back! Chill out! Unwind!

"Take five or so! Pause half a mo'!

Light up if you've a mind!" 

(The walrus thinks no forty winks 

would leave a body blind.) 

*   *   *   *   *

     R 

The walrus and the rhombus

wend their way across the campus.

"Phobics fear we'll raise a rumpus 

'cuz my Grampa Ham's a grampus," 

jaws the walrus. Adds the rhombus: 

"They can do no worse than vamp us."

     S 

The walrus used a slotted spoon, 

a "runcibl'd"* utensil, 

whene'er he dined. His -- triple-tined,

though, sadly, not prehensile, 

thus good for stabbing, bad for grabbing -- 

doubled as a pencil. 

("I pierc'd each hole," said he, "with kohl

to make this op-art stencil.")

*I.e., so characterized by Ed Lear. 

     T 

The walrus and the turn o' phrase 

could set the letter'd world  

ablaze. 

Their "Drumpf: America's malaise" 

and "Don would banish holidays" 

should preempt older watchwords --Klee's, 

Man Ray's and those of Gabby Hayes. 

*   *   *   *   *

    U 

The walrus and the UFO 

collectively decide 

to lift the mask, tell all who ask, 

"We'll no more run nor hide. 

We choose, from this day forward, bliss: 

We're now...identified!"

     V 

The walrus and the vindaloo, 

a curry cured in Goa, 

would chilis add (an Asian fad),

then scurry to Samoa, 

avoiding, thus, that damnéd bus 

to curséd Krakatoa. 

     W

The walrus licks a wint'ry mix -- 

cum wind cum rain cum sleet*

cum white stuff (piles!) up on his roof 

cum black ice down his street. 

For, though he balks, he shovels walks: 

"Though just it ain't, 'tis meet."**

*Echoes here of the Arlen/Mercer pop standard "Come Rain or Come Shine." 

**Echoes here of the Christian liturgy Preface's "It is meet and just..."

*   *   *   *   *

     X 

The walrus and the xylocarps 

discuss their coming meal:

"Each hardwood hide hold seeds inside. 

'Let's eat!''s my sole appeal." 

"We NOW know," xylocarps reply, 

"how Carroll's oysters feel."

     Y 

The walrus and the year just pass'd -- 

the stuff the Drumpfster wrought, 

the tweets half-ass'd, the press he  sass'd, 

the politicians bought, 

the rants, the farts... (The saddest part's I fear he'll ne'er be caught.) 

     Z 

The walrus and the zodiac, 

to cover all their bases,

append a dozen constellations -- 

most with modern faces. 

"Our brand-new wheel will play, we feel, 

quite well with darker races," 

the walrus said, whereon he read 

some twelve new names and places. 

"Halfway 'twixt The Ram and Bull appears The Hereford Hog, 

who's smaller than an elephant but bigger than a dog, 

prolific as a cottontail and docile as a log.

"Between The Bull and Gemini 

one ascertains The Cross, 

the Celtic one (you've seen a ton), 

with, cover'd o'er in moss, 

an image of a small white dove. 

(Or else an albatross.) 

"Between The Gemini and Twins 

you'll spot The Saddle Shoe...

     (more to come)

The Week of the Walrus & (MN)

     M 

The walrus, Mephistopheles, 

Melchizedek and me 

were, it appears, once musketeers -- 

though four instead of three. 

Include, as well, Mehitabel...?

Toadstools immortals be!

     N 

The walrus and the Nautilus, 

a model built to scale 

of 38:1 in which

he simulates to sail 

beneath the waves ISO knaves -- 

and one albino whale. 

Herbert Morrison Reporting

This famed reporter's ten most 

recent responses to hot-mic questioning sound eerily similar 

to that iconic outburst issued 

during his historic coverage of 

the 1937 Hindenburg disaster. 

I. 

     Jimmy Kimmel: 

"Which does the Herbster find 

more disturbing: Drumpf's lies 

or Drumpf's locks...? 

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Both! They're insanity!" 

II. 

     Rachel Maddow: 

"What in your opinion, Mr. 

Morrison, lies behind Drumpf's unyielding support from 

America's religious leadership...?" 

    Herbert Morrison: 

"Faux-christianity." 

III. 

     Maya Angelou: 

"So, brother M.: what's the title 

of the verse to be recited at the ceremony marking the opening 

of the new Drumpf ballroom...? 

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Ode to Nit's Vanity." 

IV.

     Captain James T. Kirk: 

"Kirk to Morrison: which alien 

world in the Delta star system 

should the Enterprise next visit...?" 

     Herbert Morrison:  

"Go there! View Planet D."

V.

     TCM's Robert Osborne: 

"Would you say, Herbie, that it 

was his unusual accent that 

proved Cary Grant's most enduring  characteristic...?" 

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Mo' the urbanity."

VI.

    Dr. James "Buddy" Powell: 

"Hey, H.M.: did the sea cow eat 

this algae...?"

     Herbert Morrison: 

"No, the du-...manatee."* 

*Herb's initial "dugong" response gets inexplicably cut short. 

VII.

     Dr. Divina Balawan: 

"How, Herb, shall science ever 

replace the coconut...?

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Grow the banana tree." 

VIII.

     Sean Hannity: 

Who, my friend, is the world's 

most-respected news source...?

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Sho' ain't, you, Hannity!" 

IX. 

     J. M. Barrie: 

"Which male chauvinist, young Morrison, sexually assaulted our Tinkerbell...?" 

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Doh! Peter Pan! It...! He...!" 

X. 

     South Dakotan Kristi Noem: 

Now that our big beautiful POTUS's 

big beautiful face appears on Mt. Rushmore, isn't that monument greater than ever before...?" 

     Herbert Morrison: 

"Noem, he's too granity!"

The Week of the Walrus & (JKL)

     J 

"The Walrus and the Jabberwock" 
from Tweedles issued not. 
"The Walrus and the Carpenter"'s 
what Dum and Dee begot.
Now: who'll defend the fool who penn'd

"The Walrus and the _______"...?* 

     *Yacht...Sot...Khat...Brät..Jot...

Lot...Knot...?

Scot...Blot...Cot...Motte...Plot...

Shot...Clot...? 

Bot...Dot...Tot...Pot...Spot...

Watt...Snot...? 

Schott...Flot...Gott...Zaht...Slot...? 

YOU decide. 

     K 

The walrus and the Kool-Aid guy, 

who smiles when condensation 

delimns a thin 'n' whimsy'd grin,

one lacking all causation, 

across his cherry-color'd puss, 

suspends my dehydration.

     L 

The walrus and Laocoön  

ill fortune overtakes.

"Like Indy Jones," the walrus moans, 

"before me, I hate snakes. 

They're so-o-o-o the pits!" Whereon he splits. 

Laocoön just shakes. 

The Week of the Walrus & (GHI)

     G 

The walrus totes a golden goose 
which harbors hangers-on -- 
kid sisters (three), a parson (he 
construes the goose a swan), 
one sexton and two laborers -- 
their show so-o-o-o woebegone! 

     H 

The walrus pilfers half a loaf 

of pumpernickel bread. 

His cousin who's a harbor seal 

steals loaves of rye instead. 

Their ancestor's both breadless 

and ten million summers dead. 

     I 

The walrus (call him Ishmael), 

a former Isra'lite, 

five oceans sails in search of whales, 

most gray, some blue, one white. 

(Cetacea by walruses dispatch'd...? 

That can't be right.)

 

The Week of the Walrus & (DEF)

     D 

The walrus, in his deux cheveaux,  
encounters, in a bar, 
a minister, a rabbi 
(are you following so far...?) 
and a priest. They ask the barkeep... 
(Made I mention of the car...?) 

     E 

The walrus and the envelope 

both chose the day to seize. 

Hyena-eyed, the walrus cried, 

"To hell with Qs 'n' Ps!" 

The envelope, tho,' caution'd "Nope! 

Don't push me, if you please." 

     F 

The walrus fancies fingerfood -- 

shrimp canapés, hors d'oeuvres, 

brie quiche, pu pu, stuff'd mushrooms, too 

(such vittles Brit teas serve) --

while steering clear of roach-en-beer,  

which meal needs seals with nerve.

The Week of the Walrus & (ABC)

     A 

The walrus and the ampersand's 

departure caus'd a fuss. 

"Rock bottom in old ABCs*

is not the spot for us," 
the walrus warn'd. "Our flight's been 

cancelled...? Basta! Board the bus!" 

*Early ABCs often follow'd Z with &.

     B 

The walrus and the bathysphere, 

upon the latter's whim, 

parade along the boardwalk. 

Words absurd are heard from him: 

"Bide near, my dear! Don't veer, d'you hear; 

know well* you: I can't swim." 

*Does the phrase suggest this  

conversation occurs during the 

Xmas season...?

     C 

The walrus and the conflagration 

strode; the walrus spoke: 

"With such a blaze, one seal might raze 

whole shtetls -- that's no joke. 

How grand to rid our land of Yid --

yea, ALL unwelcome folk!" 

Name That Loon! (Dynel J. Trompe)

Say Dickens to this day draws breath.

Say Charley never died.

Chuck doubtless still his tales could tell, 

though needing to decide 

what names to name their nemeses --

the villains of each piece. 

A Scrooge, a Heep, a Sikes: his need 

for telling tags ne'er'd cease. 

Say Dickens spawns a scoundrel 

with rococo Day-Glo hair,  

a truth-denying psychopath 

with villainies to spare, 

whose thatch resembles pasturelands 

some jeune fille might marcel:

a faux fox fur of polymer.

He'd dub that dude "Dynel." 

In French, to trompe (with silent e)...? 

To cheat, to fool, to trick. 

A tool who "trompe"'s a mythomaniac, 

a fraud, a dick.

Unfaithful to his missus (nu...?), 

this faux-republican's 

an archetypal Dickens cad:

Dynal J. Trompe's that man. 

More Meigs Mimicry: Flyover Edition

Meet Mildred Plew Meigs's Don Dirk of Dowdee disguised as each of a pair of South Dakota artists.

    Howl "Hi-

yo(lk)!" to the cowpoke 

I've bill'd Black Hills Bill. 
     Jake's pop's  

shtick's makin' pics 

with a Mother Goose quill. 

     Such fine 

art's hard to start  

if one knows not the drill.

     Stroke o'

luck: this bloke DOES!  

Black Hills Bill. 

     Now say 

"Howgh!" to the cowgirl 

Sioux've dubb'd Turning Bull. 

     Ev'ry 

sketch the more fetching -- 

when push comes to pull. 

     Turning's 

palette...? 'Tis empty. 

Portfolio...? Full. 

     I'm in 

awe of the squaw 

Turning Bull. 

     Turning 

Bull, Black Hills Bill: 

as duet, the two share 

    my es-

teem. As a team, 

their collab'rative fare 

     lets this

pair live the dream. 

'Tis a fam'ly affair. 

     Turning 

Bull, Black Hills Bill: 

Buonaser'! 

A Partial List... (cont'd)

      #22 

"Don! Sing with Us Tars!" 

In this tale told in rhyming couplets, 

an octet of jolly sailors, several of 

whom are named Jack, plead with 

POTUS to join them in a chorus of 

"99 Bottles of Coke on the Wall." 

     The verses end on a sad note 

with the president appearing to 

forget most of the words. 

A Partial List of Children's Literature Titles Overlooked by Newbery Medal Award Committee Judges

This tale takes place during the 

caliphate of Harun al-Rashid and 

relates the adventures of a young 

apprentice genie, svelte and 

statuesque, who one day, while 

attempting to assume the shape 

of a roc, instead inexplicably takes 

the form, and begins murmuring 

the sounds, of a mourning dove.

     #17 

 
"D'Litt: Tall, Lean Djinn That Coo'd"

Next! (The Altar Stones)

     The Altar Stones 

Enfrock'd in aqua doctors' robes, 
the Alts ply lyres astride pied globes, 
then prance past oscillating strobes 
to lays of Leopold's. (Or Loeb's.) 
Each gig ends badly -- as did Job's -- 
once Fatha' Fats, first flute, disrobes. 
The EPA's conducting probes: 
affront, do Alts, fans' frontal lobes. 

    

This incomplete illustration of the   
band shows several pied globes, 
one with its saddle, astride which 
band members make their entrance 
playing their vintage Martin lyres. 
It also captures the moment in the 
band's  performance when Jimmie 
(Fatha' Fats") Nicklewicz, flutist and 
lead singer, begins his signature 
striptease. 

Next! or, Shadowing the Stones: an Alphabet (Prologue)

      Prologue 

Which bands, not now renown'd nor known, 
aspire to R&Rdom's throne...? 
Who's next...? Which Keith 'n' Jagger clones 

shall supersede the Rolling Stones...? 

     (to be continued)

An Early Holiday Greeting

Blue Djinns; or, Blue, Blue, Blue Is the Hue of Maya Truelove's Do & Other Nonsense

     Drei Dry Djinn

     Ein 

One kin's a djinn demonic, 

a Finn whose sins be chronic. 

This thane of earls 

his mane of curls 

in vain unfurls. Sardonic...? 

     Zwei 

Akin's a djinn (clan...? Yanik)

whose binge is gin and tonic. 

This bane of girls 

his rain of pearls 

insanely hurls. Moronic...? 

     Drei 

"En fin"...? A djinn Teutonic -- 

twinn-chinn'd: one's thin, one's conic. 

Mint skeins he purls. 

In pain he twirls, 

this swain of churls. Bubonic...? 

Wednesday Wave Protest Sign 10.29.25

 

Tom Eliot's Year

January's rulest month: 

old New Year's resolutions. 
   February...? Foolest month: 

droll sonnet distributions. 

March is the retoolest month, 

a season of renewal. 
   April's, now, the crew'lest month. 

(We've quite enough of cruel.) 

May's the crepusculest month; 

each dusk starts that much later.

   June's last-day-of-schoolest month. 

Sing "Later, alligator!" 

July's the dunking-stoolest month;

with ice, much more surprising. 

   August is the fuelest month. 

The price of gas keeps rising. 

September is the droolest month: 

the birthrate's up. (Don't ask.)

   October is the ghoulest month. 

You'd don a Donald mask...?

November is the coolest month. 

Eats...? Pumpkin pies. Drinks...?  Nogs.

   December is the yulest month:

King Wenceslaus thinks, "Logs!"

Dithyrambs in D with Denouement on Drumpf of Down D'ere: Homage a Mildred Plew Meigs Brought to You by the Letter D

     Dithyrambs in D

     Here de-

buts (Doh!) Der DOTUS,*

Don Drumpf of Down D'ere,
     of whose 

op'randi modus 
Dems duly forswear.
     Yet one

dares not dismiss  

the despicable hair 
     of the 

dastardly Drumpf of Down 

D'ere. 

          * Destroyer Of The United States

     Dans Drumpf's 

soul (what remains of it's 

black as the night)

     Drumpf en-

lists the fascisti 
who haunt the far right
     as Drumpf 

rants about hand size,  

red ties, weight and height (!) --

     does the 

dim-witted Drumpf of Down 

D'here. 

     During 

Drumpf's premier term 

Drumpf perversions rehears'd. 

     Now Drumpf 

daily distributes 

Drumpf's worst o' the worst. 

     (But what 

motivates Drumpf's 

duodenum to burst...? 

     Double 

cheeseburgers -- dozens! -- down 

dere.)

     Don Drumpf 

claims "the best words" 

though deployin' 'em not. 

     Don Drumpf 

grabs women's p*****s.* 

(Drumpf's earlobe got shot.) 

     Don Drumpf 

lusts after even his daughter -- 

a lot! -- 

     does the 

derelict Drumpf of Down 

D'ere.

          *Puritans read 'privates.' 

     Don Drumpf 

takes to Our House 

his demolishing bat

     as Drumpf 

makes of the U.S. 

persona non grat'...

     ...yet Don 

dons his "Make-Ev'rything-

Great-Again" hat --

     does De-

stroyer Don Drumpf of Down 

D'ere. 

     Denouement 

     But of 

late, concerns great 

Drumpf's deciding to share -- 

     in faint 

hopes of ascending 

God's heavenly stair.*

     Still, Drumpf's 

duly -- though Drumpf will 

construe it "unfair" --

     doom'd to 

dwell, 'til dawns Doomsday, down 

d'ere."**

     *Drumpf imagines, of course, 

a heavenly escalator.* 

     **Hell aka The Inferno (and 

considering the present context, 

doubtless Dante's. Drumpf's 

character qualifies him for 

damnation to every ring.)

Thirds Off Six Views Of South Fiji: a Distressed Sketchbook