"Wind" Wannabes

Gownwyth the Twin 
A Morality Play for Younger Readers
by Morganet le Mitchelle

     In Arthurian times, Sir Gawayne sires twins. 
     (Just imagine the hijinks enjoin’d by those sibs!)
     Squire Gownwyth, the brother -- a dwarf for his sins --
     needles Gwinfrith, his sister, with puns he ad libs.
     (Younger readers, who fish through the 50-cent bins,
     might discover this book. Should you do so, shout "Dibs!"

Goin' With a Houyhnhnm? 
A Cross-cultural Dating Manual for Twee ‘Tweens
by Jonathan "Swifty" Mitchell 

     (Elucidating verses to come: a work in progress) 

Kong Mit Der Kint  
Filmdom’s Giant Ape Joins the Hitler Youth
in German, with English translation, by Frau Eva von Mitchell

Gun Wit That Wins 
Funny Firearms Anecdotes for the Successful Public Speaker
by Maggie "Magnum" Mitchell (with a forward by Charlton Heston) 

Gown Widths Unwound
The Hidden History Behind the 50's Sack Dress
by Ives St. LeMitchell in conversation with Barbara Walters

Gong! Went de Winter 
A Rebecca Prequel Reimagines Maxim's Misspent Youth 
by Daphne du Mitchell (Soon to be a made-for-iPhone motion picture)

Jawin' With Amin
Conversations with the Former Dictator About Life, Love and Whatnot
by Roberta "Mugabby" Mitchell 

Jong With Derwent
Fear Of Flying Author Provides Her Own Best Seller with Colored-Pencil Sketches
by Margaret Mitchell (channeling Ms Jong)

Drawin' Theo Wynne
Van Gogh's Caricatures of His Arles Next-Door Neighbor
by Simone "Schama" Mitchell

Yawn, Widdl' Winkie 
Twee Tales for Tots' Naptimes
by Nanny Mitch 

Corn With That Weiner? 
Hot Dogs & Other Characteristic Cuisines of the Old Confederacy
by Aunt Magnolia Mitchell 

Pawin' Misty Wynde
Confessions of a Serial Sex Addict
by Anonymous as told to Truman Mitchell 

Go On, Widow Prynne! or, the Scarlet Alphabet 
A Restoration Era Romance/Connect-the-Dots Coloring Book
by LaVyrle Mitchell-Chiqlytt 

Cordwainer's Window
The Science Fiction of Paul M. A. Linebarger
by Arthur C. Mitchell and Marsula Le Guin

Canning with Vin 
A Gastro-Geek's Guide to Preserving Fruit in Spirits
by Julia Childe-Mitchell

Brawny the Wimp 
A Graphic Novella
by M. Mitchell (illustrated by Moe Reese-Endack) 

Pawn'd For a Fin
Making Big $$$ in the Temporary Loan Business 
by Illona "Sharky" Mitchell 

Goin'? Whither, Wynn?
The Sad Last Days and Nights of "The Perfect Fool"
by Mitzie Mitchell (as told to Robert Osborne)

On Winners

Winners never quit. And quitters never win. 
What half-wits spit
is full o’ shit,
however it they spin.

Which punks apostasize? Whose labmates abdicate?
Who, d'you suppose, 
would "A-dee-oze!"?
Which Jacks evacuate?

Does Anne* abandon ship? Gives in Anais Nin?
Aeneas? Quitter?
Not one whit. (Herr
Adolf may 'ave been.) 
     * Diarist Frank 

Does Bonaparte back down? Does Bono close the book?
Which bloke bows out?
Point out the lout
while I go find a hook.

Does Carton, Sidney quit? (D Parton don’t depart.)
Does Elvis P
hand in his key?
(The King still lives: take heart!) 

(A work in progress)

The Audacity of 'Open': an Open Letter to Andre Agassi in Nonsense Verse

Prologue (‘open a’ through ‘open c’)

     "Open"
(Andre's autobio) open’d -- 
in the open air’ll 
     strike so
close to home 
     'twill 
prove one tome 
     you'll 
open at your per’l.

     Just like
open bars, this open book 
     re-
echoes drink reorders.
     Like a
cocktail dress with open back, 
     it 
breaches open borders.

     And in
open cities, books like these 
     flaunt 
open-carry laws, 
     as shut-and- 
open cases lead to loads 
     of 
open-court guffaws. 

End of Prologue

Open Letter, Part the First ('open d' through 'open j')
   
     "Poor 
port-a-janes 
urge open drains," 
     eggs 
Dre. "Ya see? Flow's fine-ish.     
     Open
doors -- set policy! -- stay open 
every night 'til nineish."

     "Open 
fire!" bays Andre, running 
     open 
field. "Give chase...apace! 
     Let's hope no
single sandwich leaves this court -- 
     un-
less it's open-face."

     Ker-
plucking on his open grill 
     in 
open G-string tuning, 
     Dre be-
rates the open grates 
     which open 
government is ru'ning. 

     When
Steffi, spouse, holds open house, 
     her 
manner's open handed: 
     "Eine
open heart -- mit surgery? 
     Nein, 
nein: not 'rekommanded.'"

     It's now 
op'ning day: To open 
     JAR files 
be a jarring need. 
     Let's hope nine
".jars" are open'd in a jiff. 
     (Adds 
Steffi: "Yeff, indeed!") 

End of Open Letter, Part the First

Open Letter, Entr'acte ('open k' through 'open m')

     As Steff's
open kimono breeds open-lip kisses 
     (the
start of a smart open marriage), 
     Dre's open
mouth, unrehears’d, 
     hollers,
"Open me first!" – 
     though they'd
best choose siesta at their age. 

End of Open Letter, Entr'acte

Open Letter, Part the Second ('open n' through 'open y') 

"Open nose; then insert ring!" sings
one. "We're open Sunday!" 
     ''Try the
barbecue," insists the second.
"Best comestible, 'tis reckon’d.
Open pit has never beckon’d
you...? You'll try it...one day!" 

(a work in progress) 

Open quickly
Open road
Open sesame Open season

Open to the public Open the door, Richard 
Open up your heart and let the sun shine in Open 'til 2. 
Open vowel

Open window Open with a bang 
Open Xmas Eve 
Open your wallet 

End of Open Letter, Part the Second

Open Letter, Epilogue ('open z')

     "Andre:
Open ze pie hole und button ze ey'z, 
     eef'n
Steff eez to geev you ze zuper zuprize."

Aw About Bwog: a Wimerick

As a word, ‘bwogo’s beaucoup agogable.
Busy bloggers bleat, "‘Bwogo’ be bloggable."
Baba Wawa, however,
would challenge it, “Never!
Wou wexeme’s wax wargely unbwogable.”

Showboat (Sung -- in Bass Clef, of Course, If Not in Fact in Base Clef -- to the Tune of "Ol Man River")

     (Intro) 

There's an ol' goat -- 

a mi-sog-y-nist, he.

Chau-vin-ists vo-ted him 

Pres-i-dent.

Ver-bal-ly limp, 

he re-lies on Twit-ter

ev'-ry damn time he feels 

press'd to vent.

     (Chorus A) 

Ol' Man Twit-ter. 
That Ol' Man Twit-ter. 
He must know sump-'n

(no way: he's Trump...) 'n'
he just keeps troll-lin.' 
He keeps on troll-lin' a-a-a-a-
long.

     (Chorus B) 

He trolls Bob Muel-ler. 
He trolls Pe-lo-si. 
And an-y day now 
he'll troll A-O-C. 
He just keeps troll-lin.' 
(While 18-hol-in.') So-o-o-o
wrong!

     (Bridge) 

U-S-A,
four tenths in-sane,
pray-in' while play-in' 
through the ache and pain.
Brave that hair... 
those hands! (So small!)
Buck 'im and he'll f**k 'em
with his "Build that wa-a-a-a-a-all!"

     (Outro) 

I gets wear-y 
with all the ly-in.'
But emp-ty heads 
all those lies keep buy-in.'
So Ol' Man Twit-ter, 
he just keeps troll-lin'
a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-
long.  

Dot What? or Upstart Startups: 26 Dot Coms NOT!

10000000.alot     ai.bot     dvts.clot     morse.dot     walt.epcot     
jetsam.flot     milk.got     stormy.hot     gold.ingot     tittles.jot     herbals.khat   vacant.lot     
hoople.mott     solemn.not     remnants.oddlot     ganja.pot     howmany.quot     
tommy.rot     aa.sot     childcare.tot     results.upshot     zitvlaks.vot  
mega.watt     weird.x-ot     sailors.yacht     forts.ziggurat

Cities or We Are Where We Live (Incomplete)

Observe the folks of Auda City, labell’d 'tres outre.'
Heels...? Hair...? Drinks...? Spiked! (Who'd get all psych'd to them a visit pay?
Perhaps in June I'll change my tune. Or May. Or Saturday.)

(a work in progress) 

Basi City
Capa City
Dupli City
Elasti City
Feli City 
Genero City
Histori City
Iconi City
J
K
Lumino City
Menda City 
Neurotoxi City
Opa City
Perver City 
Quadrupli City 
Recipro City
Synchroni City
Tena City
Univer City
Velo City 
W
X
Y
Z

The Arts of Letters (Incomplete)

To the art of A's apartheid art 
add Herge's Alph-Art’s* faulty start. 
Each agitates the applecart. 
     * Tintin's final adventure remained
incomplete at Herge's death. 

The letter B boasts Bogart's art, 
Bart Simpson's, Beaux-‘ and Bonaparte's. 
Regard 'em partly braggarts' art.  

The arts of C be arts of charts. 
C's art appears at Nimes and Chartres.  
Corot owns stock in Cuisineart.  

Shiv-sharpen'd darts draw D's deft arts: 
D'Artagnan throws 'em, then departs.  
Asks arch Cartesian R. Descarte: 
"Do Artful Dodgers dare take part?"  

Each E enjoys its eBART art, 
while F, through “artch'ry,”  hurls a fart,
the farther 'part, the finer th'art. 

The art of G? ‘Tis go-kart art,
though some's kick-started by Moss Hart. 
The art of H? Its art's all heart.

The art of I, in fits 'n' starts, 
imparts, much like that smart-ass Bart,*
an artlessness into its art. 
     * Cf verse two above. 

The art of J employs the jart.
No further arts shall I impart,
nor can I stay: I must depart.

Oonly Coonect! or Woon't Yoou Be My Oone & Oonly: a Loony Valoontoone

Andy Annie Rooney 
loves Algonquin J. Calhoun. He 
(Sarkozy) loves Carla Bruni.
Loves the boondocks Daniel Boone? 
(Does Cameroon love Rosie Clooney?
Lorna Doone love Lorna Doones.) 

Earthquake McGoon (fame long since flewn)
dislikes Gene Austin, first to croon. He -- 
Spike, Pete 'n' Harry, each a Goon – 
love Michael B, who left too soon.
(Ja'far Abdullāh al-Mā'mūn
adored his dad, Caliph Harun.)

Do I love (not to pop immune) 
"Memphis in June"? I love that tune, 
though when I croon it to Estonia's 
elite, 'twould be erroneous 
to label 'em "Estoonians": 
they tend to tip in Kroon. 
(Might someone lend me a doubloon…?
Stop! Sidebars rend my penn'd lampoon.)

Mr. Mullins (known as Moon), he 
of the comical cartoon:
his love for racetrack and saloon
makes a celeb of this buffoon.      

Gen'ral Scott (christen'd Matoon): he 
loves America’s commun-
ity. While Lyman fears Scott's loony,
Scott thinks Lyman's too poltroony.
Their brouhaha's nigh "High Noon"-y. 
More? 'Twas less than opportune.

Big Easy's rag -- Times-Picayune – 
hates Ms. Katrina. (Damn typhoon!) 
Its news knells nowt of far Rangoon –
nor its monsoon, which leaves sheaves strewn. 

Giulietta nee Masina
playing teeny Gelsomina 
dies unlov'd by Zampano. 
(Note: Tony Quinn’s a phony quoon.)

McCartney's Rocky -- young Raccoon
whom Paul'd call’d, early on, 'Sassoon' --
loves Lil...or Nancy...or Magill --
depending 'ow one 'ears the tune. 

Whom Tommy Tune loves is unknoon.
Vidal Sassoon loves gloves Walloon
and hats of xanthin (not xanthoon).

And what of you, in sandals shoon...? 
Do you love me as I love you 'n'
Howard Zinn -- who loved to zing
the upper classes, massas born
with mouths awash in silver spoons –
him...'n' kazooin'...?

Whoomsoever you love, Happy Valoontoone's Day!

Crossbreeds or Diversity

How best repopulate our zoo?
Use crossbreed copulation…do!
When critters red seed beasties blue,
each crop dropp’d pops up stronger…nu?
(Which makes the planet stronger, too).
Below’s bipartisan review.

An alligator pokes your pony?

All together: allimony!

Baboon blades been beddin’ rabbits?

Badda-bing! Bred: baby babbits.

Cassowaries marry moles?

Check out the potluck cassowoles!

Dingoes diddle dromedaries?

Dropp’d are darlin' dingoebaries.

Efts a-fertilizin’ pheasants?

Each flat’s fill’d with efterveasants.

Fecund fleas philand’rin’ civets?

Freakin’ A: fleabertyjivets!

Gobies all agog for rooks?

Get set for gobs of gob’legooks!

Hedgehog humps anemone?

He brings about hedgemone..

Inchworms infiltratin’ ‘gators?

Itsy-bitsy inchubators.

Jackal-juice-injected fox?

Jeepers! Up jumps jack’l-a-box.

Kudu couplin’ with a tuna?

Krikey! That’s one big kahuna.

Linked: il lamprey e medusa?

Look, Giuseppe! Lampreydusa!

Mister Mack’rel? Meet Ms Loon!

Might we soon see a mackaroon? 

No narwhal’d nail no nice gazelle?
No way, Jose? Doh! Nar-do-welle!

Orang o’ercomes (oh, my!) a mule…yes?

Oy! Enjoy your orang-jul’yess!

Panda/hormogonium

produces pandamonium.

Quails co-habbing with some hounds?

Queues of quailifying rhounds!

Ringworms ravish’d by a mole.

Result? A lot of ringmarole.

Safe sex ‘twixt sardine and gorilla

still sets loose some sardsporilla.

Thistlebird ties knot with pig,

throws pigbird…NOT! (Throws thigmajig.)

Unicorn crossbreeds with bear.

Unlikely urchin? Undiewear.

Voles invade Komodo dragons?

Voila tout! New (two!) voleswagons.

Wives a whippoorwill with raptor.

Whelp resulting? Whippoorsnaptor.

Xylophaga espous’d to drone?

Xed out! Or shout, “A xylophrone!”

Your yak has shack’d up with a poodle?

You’ve a dandy yakeedoodle.

Zobo sleeps with bees and yaks?

Zounds! Stars are born: new zoobeeyaks.

But, marriage or a civil u…

or who wears pink and who wears blue…
or who’s to use the ladies’ loo…
or who’s to say “I do” to who?
Such stuff’s a bunch o’ ballyhoo…
and isn’t up to me or you.