"Take a Mother of Invention..." AmalgaMates, AmalgaMarriages & AmalgaMavens: Abecedarial Caricatures

Take a Mother of Invention.
Tack on terminal detention.
Ne'er a cuter persecute.
Alter ego? Sheik Yerbouti.                             Anne Frank Zappa

Poke a '10' -- one lithe and lanky.
Yoke her to the New Yo'k Yankee.                  Bo Derek Jeter

We've been attacked, shellac'd, Iraq'd.
We've sure been meg'lomaniac'd.
Who best to research and redact
our "Tarzan Does the Tal'ban" tract?              Condoleezza Rice Burroughs

He trilled "My Peggy Sue-a-hoo,"
then thrilled us in that tome by Tru                Buddy Holly Golightly

Ubercop (the best of Chester)
spliced his genes with GynoJester.                 Dick Tracy Ullman

Plu-poetess -- no sonneteer --
she won a prize but lost an ear.                     Edna St. Vincent Van Gogh

His lips, 'twixt sips, drip quips sarcastic.
Plastic ears? Attached with mastic.                 Fat Jack Leonard Nimoy 

This tree-tall tourist trots the globe,
becomes Miss McEnroeophobe.                      Goose Tatum O'Neal

Arrives as FDR departs. 
With him, bucks stop but bugg'ry starts.         Harry S. Truman Capote

With friends like these* (all "homes" he had)

you'd think he'd banish boys who're bad.**    Isiah Thomas the Tank Engine

     * Percy, James, Gordon...

     ** Laimbeer, Rodman, Mahorn...

Who quells a Cuban Missile Crisis
yells, "Eleven herbs and spices!"                    JFKFC

Green velveteen? It’s never easy.
This bean’s spleen’s lean, mean and sleazy.    KerMitt the Romney 

He bids his nymphets, “Let’s pretend."

(Are di’monds still this churl’s best friend?)      Lewis Carroll Channing

Dismissed as a harlot by Pinkerton (varlet!),

this missy play’d Prissy to Vivien’s Scarlett.    Madame Butterfly McQueen

He trilled re Gioconda’s smile. 
They killed him. (Bye, Br’er Batophile.)          Nat King Kong 

Mean fiends he beans with beams of light. 
His caffeine beans be outta sight.                  Obi Juan Valdez

This pale, peculiar juvenile 
is Hitler’s tool – and hot as “heil!”                  Pee Wee Hermann Goering 

Her “pot and pan” is Ferdinand. 
She hassles Transylvanialand.                       Queen Isabella Lugosi 

No frump: a goddess, deemed domestic, 
humping iron. (Seems catachrestic.)              Roseanne Arnold Schwarzenegger 

Olympic oro won as minor. 
Famous, though, for one one-liner.                Sonja Henny Youngman 

Eyes? True blue. Skin? Faux-bronze. So: 
how’s his journalism? Gonzo!                         Tab Hunter Thompson   

Hailed ‘has-been” by a “never-was,” 
he’s not your nephew, bro or cuzz.                 Uncle Sam Donaldson

She’d love to lead you to the lighthouse. 
Too far out? How’s ‘bout the White House?      Virginia Wolf Blitzer

His nom de nursey is Edward. 
Does he nudge his nation red-ward?                Winnie the Putin 

“Fretful,” “frightful,” “for the birds.” 
(Not mine but Xenophon’s harsh words.)          Xanthippe Hedrin

Cops to more than fifteen Grammies. 
Tops my list of heinous mammies.                   Yo Yo Ma Barker 

Cinematic. Pre-Socratic. 
Eliatic. Enigmatic.                                           Zeno of Elia Kazan

"There bides a bigly man..." Bigly: A Prediction

There bides a bigly man
who sports an orange tan
'neath bigly yellow hair.
So sad: he's not all there.

Not seldom does he bawl:
"I'll build a bigly wall,
and Mexico will pay.
(I'm bigly, by the way.)" 

Far worse, this bigly dude
with Putin did collude
to guarantee a win --
which is a bigly sin.

But Mueller's on the case.
Rob's bigly database
will prove Drumpf did the crime.
Will Drumpf do bigly time...?

"Who mal-mouths men..." Regalia: A Nonsense Alphabet in Rhyme (from What A's Not for)

Who mal-mouths men for mismatched clothes 
must know what who's not no one knows:
all suits (such duds these dudes drag on!)
aren't suitable for ev'ry john.

Aren't armbands apt for activists?

(Weren't you, once, one of those?)

Aren't boas built for blondes ("Les Gilt")

in pumps and fishnet hose?

Aren't Cardigans collegi'ns costumes -- 

seen on senior fellows

smoking briars in their libraries

("...the beechwood and the bellows...")?

Aren't dickeys, donned by dapper dons,

to deans and docents sold?

Aren't epaulettes and earmuffs worn

by ensigns catching cold?

Fedoras aren't for females.

They're for fellas -- Indianas,

Michael Landrys, Lester Youngs...

(For their fedoras they're bananas!)

Aren't galluses the garb of grandpas

('zaydes' if they're Jews)?

Aren't H'wai'an shirts "haut cout" 

for Honolulu'ns on a cruise?

Aren't ice bags for inebriates,

to keep hung hotheads cool?

Aren't jodhpurs for the jet set

at the Spanish Riding school?

Aren't kilts the kit of Scottish knights --

Kincaid clan kin included?

Legwarmers warm lads' legs,

lest limbs catch chills because denuded.

Don't mousquetaires make mitts

for musketeers -- not mice, not moose?

Aren't neckties for the natt'lly dressed --

knots knotted tight, not loose?

Orchids, pince-nez, quivers, muffs:

for whom might those togs be?

For fleurphiles, Poirots, Quinns, Pierrots

and Royals...suitably.

Are spats not for sophisticates?

I know so few. (You do?)

Are teddies not for Ts and As?

(Transvestites tout 'em, too.)

Aren't underpants default for uncles

unemployed (sans jobs)?

Are vests not viscounts' vestments --

and for vestiges of slobs?

Aren't Wellingtons (originally

worn by Duke of same)

now worn by weekend gardeners?

(Is Monty Don to blame?)

Xylóxabats (they're wooden shoes): 

are they not for the Dutch?

Are yarmulkas not for yeshiva boys'

"nice Yiddish touch"?

Aren't zippered and well-padded

body stockings for Zen Buddhists

who, while striving for dokugo,

also relish being nudists?

So: what is Man without his clothes?

I know: one who's not no one knows

that clothes aren't always in demand --

unless they're a designer brand.

"Since when are Gs (gasp!) energies...?" Physics Distichs: A Nonsense in Rhyme

Since when are Gs (gasp!) energies?
Does antimatta matta?

Which pitch-dark night might speed of light
Al's* light-speed limit shatta?

Whose razzmatazz frames physics, as
our cosmos waxes fatta?

Why'd physicists pick psychic twists
to machinate their data?
     * Relativity's Albert Einstein, of course.

"My Russian dramatic fave..." The "I'm Not Bald!" Eagle: Portrait of a Con Artist

My Russian dramatic fave? Chekhov's The Seagull.
Norwegians who'll trigger your tears? Edvard Grieg'll.
The canine folks learn to love? Peke-... Wait! The Beagle!
Worst guilty obsession? (Is Oprah illegal?)
What weakens one's will to win? Chronic fatigue'll.
Our favorite dead princess? Di [sob] was so regal.
And who's more distressing than Ben "Bugsy" Siegel?
A golden-vibrissae'd (Drumpf: "I'm not bald!") eagle. 

"There's this dick down the Dales..." About Andy: a Limerick (from AmalgaMates_

(Dalziel, a not uncommon Scottish surname, is pronounced, more or less, Dee-ELL. 'Dick' is slang for detective, and, while Andy is a detective superintendent, he's also a vulgar prick as well. 'The Dales' refers to the Yorkshire Dales, Andy's patch. The author of the Dalziel and Pascoe novels is Reginald Hill (in standard orthography). 'Tha' is thou or you in Scots dialect.)

There's this dick down the Dales dubbed Dalziel.

He puts partner Pete Pascoe through helziel.

In Hilziel's novels' accounts

his name's hard to pronounce,

and, I'll telziel tha as welziel, hard to spelziel.

"A is for Arbor Day..." A Most Unusual 'Day': An Alphabet

A is for Arbor Day and "Any Wednesday."
B's for the birthdays of Bolshies born "Boris."
C's for the catch of the day. (Fridays? Flounder.)
D is for Danny O,' Dennis and Doris.

E is for "Every day I have the blues."
F is for Friday, who's Crusoe's home dude.
G's for "...a good day for payin' your bills..."
H? For High Holidays' holiday mood.

I's for "In just one day Rome wasn't built."
J's for Joe Friday: "...just facts, ma'am, just facts..."
K is for Kalends: Rome's new moon emerges.
L is for laundry day. (Who swiped my slacks?)

M's for a 'Menndich,' a 'Maandag,' a 'Monday.'
N's for ennui -- that's to say, noonday devils.
O is for One-A-Day gummies for grownups.
P is for payday, occasioning revels. 

Q is for 'quaque die,' i.e., 'daily.'
R is for rubric, for red letter, eh?
S is for "Saturday Night" -- "Live" or "Hot Jazz."
T? Pearl Buck's Wang Lung's "Today is the day."

U is for Uday, Saddam's sadist son.
V's for V-E Day, as well as V-J.
W's Wednesday -- for "Sheffield" or Week,"
X? For today...if today's Xmas Day.

Y is for yesterday. Yesterday's gone,
as did Bill from his pillar with Hillary tell us.
Z is for Day of the Zombie, when Sean
(of the Dead) and his f(r)iends come to (more or less) kill us.

"North Korea? Seedy 'hood..." Chorea Brief

North Korea? Seedy 'hood.
Chicory, a weed? "'Tees good."
South Korea? Tech'xpertise.
Chick Corea? Pecks your keys.
Sydenham's Chorea? Tough!
Like Huntington's, it's savage stuff.

"Who's bit thrice but not shy...?" The "No 'No-Nonsense'" Guy: A Nonsense Rhyme

Who's bit thrice but not shy?
Who's, though smitten, still spry?
Who sports mittens -- no tie?
The "No 'No-Nonsense'" Guy.

Who resides at the Y?
Who confides, "I'm a spy"?
Who's tried trisecting pi?
The "No 'No-Nonsense'" Guy.

Who loves Laurie, loathes Fry; 
disses Christian, digs Bligh;
Googles K Ophir (Shai)?
The "No 'No-Nonsense'" Guy.

Who chugs canteens of chai

with pastramis on rye,

and cries, "Let 'em eat pie!"?

The "No 'No-Nonsense'" Guy.

Who sings, "B'ruch...Adonai..."

before sundown each Fri?

(You might give that a try: 

you're no "no-nonsense" guy!)

"Three Gershwins..." & Other Tripartite Situs Limn'd as Lim'ricks

A Shwin / Shwin / Lose Situation 

Three Gershwins seem show business pros.
There be George, brother Ira and Rose.
George's tunes are the best.
Ira's words pass the test.
Yet all shows of Ms. Rose quickly close.

A Wright / Wright / Wrong Situation  

Three Wrights seem a laudable trio.
There be Orville and Wilbur and Leo.
Orville's printing press...? Nifty.
"Burr"'s bicycles...? Thrifty.
Yet, Dio! Poor Leo lacks brio!

A Grant / Grant / Keep Situation 

Of Grants we observe more than two.
There's Ulysses. There's Gogi. There's Hugh.
Uly's POTUS -- two terms.
Gogi's hairdos are perms.
As to Hugh, I've no clue. Nor have you.

"If each holiday song, gotten jotted down wrong..." Ymas Story or There's No Place Like an Alternate 'Yule'niverse for the Holidays

If each holiday song, gotten jotted down wrong,
reappeared, but sung weird and inchoate,
would've stuff taking place showed a different face?
Would the world have unfurled as we know it?

If (say) Clement Clarke Moore had penned "Fortnights Before..." --
this in lieu of the lyrics we love,
then would issues of race now but rarely take place?
Would each push need to come to a shove?

And if Bach's "Hallelujah" were sung "If I knew ya
were coming I'd bake ya a cake,"
would've Adam's mate Eve from God's garden took leave,
scarffed a pear and then married the Snake?

If a true lover sings. "...five aluminum rings..."
in his air about pear trees and partridges,
would've JFK's 'cade proved a less grim parade?
Would Lee Harvey have run short of cartridges?

If those Magi guys were from the Occident, myrrh,
gold and frankincense might have, instead,
been a Myrtle Beach condo, one Golden Fernando
and Frankenstein's second-best bed. 

Had he* dashed through the snow in a multi-horse No-
va instead of a single-horse sleigh,
would they've figured a way -- that proverbial "they" --
to prefabricate Rome in one day?     
     * James Lord Pierpont, composer of "Jingle Bells."

And had Frosty the Snowman proved less tele-showman
and more ecological hero,
would the globe have stopped warming, stopped tropical storming?
Would rumors of war approach zero?