Repost: Incomplete Abecedarial Paean to Plaid (A Through L)

All ador'd my angora, 

nor'd none dare ignora a 

chemise made of Aertex I had.
Then I glimps'd Alan Ladd
on my iPad: Egad!
Was the shirt Al was girt with a plaid...?

Burlap broadcloth's unique,
and who'd not love batik,
nor'd a Battenberg lace be too bad.
But along bounded Brad:
weren't those jodhpurs he had...?
And those braces and belts...? All were plaid!

Cashmere, camel's hair, chintz,
cloth of gold (if mere hints):
cloth which starts with C...? Chiliads! Scads!
Note: the PM of Chad 
(K. P. Deubet's the lad)
rules in compets and boubous -- all plaids!

Damask, double-knits, duck,
with some denim (what luck!)
thusly dress'd, I'd resemble De Sade.
Then I thought of me Dad,
deadbeat dryad gone mad.
(Dad died dancing in dirndls of plaid.)

Each electronic textile,
in plain-, stripe- or check-style,
which to moi ensemble I'd add
called for stringent proscription
of cotton (Egyptian).
Egad! No more plaid...? 'Tis too sad.

For sale: five five-Farad
capacitors. Where had
I found them to wear...? In an ad.
Who'd foment such a fad...?
Flavor Flav, who's a cad...?
Nope! That fellow, by far, prefers plaid.

Give me gingham, then Gore-Tex.
A gauze pinafore nex'.
Then gabardine gowns of your dad's.
He'd the gonads to don 'em --
with quatrefoils on 'em.
Still, I'd be most glad to get plaids. 

Hand me hair shirts in herringbone,
hopsacks (to which I'm prone).
Harris Tweed widow's weeds...? Rad!
(Did I spy, on your helipad,
once ev'ry hebdomad,
CONELRAD op'rants in plaid...?)

I've loved fine Irish linen
and cotton that's Indi'n.
My feelings for these...? Ironclad!
Till a book -- 'twas an Iliad
bought in Islamabad --
introduced Islamic plaid.

Jeremiads (my own)
flow in triads: I moan,
"Jerseys, jutes, Jacquard suits...? Those I've had."
Now jihadists enlist
in Jamdani. I'm pissed:
they join up, jup'd 'n' jodhpur'd, in plaid.

Kanye's kid brother styled --
to look kooky and wild --
all my kaftans 'n' kurtas. Good lad!
But, like most city slickers,
he bypass'd my knickers,
my kilts and my kicks. None are plaid!

Linsey-woolsey...? A trace.
Leather briefs I embrace.
I've more linens than Vlad Lenin had,
who, in lush lingerie
done in lambs-wool lame,
long held sway. (Why's his loincloth not plaid...?)

Repost: What Are The Odds...? A Nominal Anomaly

Though an 'even''s seen in 'seven,' 

oddly, 7 isn't even.

That an 'even''s in 'eleven's odd: 

11, too, ain't even.

An "An 'even''s seen in 'seven,' 

although 7 isn't even"
seems, routinely, a fifteener. 

(Even so, 15's not even.)

An "An 'even''s in 'eleven,' 

though 11 isn't even,"
seems a byzantine fifteener. 

Still, 15 remains uneven.

(Note: these lines through which we plod
though, 'even's notwithstanding, odd,
we see wind down -- for which, thank Gawd! --
and roundly boo'd as oddly flaw'd.)

Trolley Song Ala Geisel's And To Think..." After Queneau's "Exercises"

In the midst of the rush hour, I noted this chap
who, as well as displaying a curious cap,
went lamenting and venting, fomenting a fuss.
And to think this began with my taking the bus.
 
Unseason'd he was – twenty-six if a day --
and as passengers pass’d, to his neighbor he’d say:
“Keep tha's knees to thaself! Leave me legs alone, Gus!”
And to think this began with my taking the bus.
 
He was wearing a hat, as I said, with a string
where its ribbon should be – a most singular thing.
And his neck…? Like a crane’s or giraffe’s it stretch’d – thus.
And to think this began with my taking the bus.
 
I ran into him later – I can’t recall where --
being told by his friend, “See…? Your coat needs repair.”
With my therapist Thursday my tale I'll discuss.
And to think it began with my taking the bus.

Runcibl'd Spooner: Paging Doctor Mom!

Which verse of Percy's sounds the best...?
Most swear -- sans fear of perjury: 
"Ozymandias"!
     At hospital, which jobs are Mom's...? 
Chairwoman...? Head of Surgery...? 
Ma's C and DS!
     Moral:

A soda jerk...? Not woman's work.

Runcibl'd Spooner: One From Column A

Eat this green leafy veg'table -- Brassica rapa
chinensis. It harbors nutrition galore. 
Bok Choy 
     Meet this stick figure playmate portray'd on the sidewalk
with white charcoal markers by me at age four:
Chalk Boy
     Moral:
Ya gotta have friends.

Where's Walrus...?

     The Walrus and the Senator go rushing 'round the Russell.

"Retard yall's step," the Senator prescribes. "Forestall yall's hustle!"

"When we win seats, no Dem defeats sub rosa alt-right muscle."

ThumbeLoser or The Further Adventures of Tiny Hans

"I won the election by a lot but I won

but if you count the legal votes I won 

but if you count all the illegal votes 

they can try to steal the election from 

us but I won by a lot but if you count 

the votes that came in late, we're look-

ing at those very strongly but I've al-

ready decisively won many really very 

many critical states but as everybody 

saw and you all saw I won by historic 

numbers...but a lot..."

                    

 

 

 

 

 

"I lo-...I lo-lo-los-...I lo-...I lo-lo-lo-..."

Haikuplets

     Haikuneiform

Ancient Near East.

Earliest writing system.

Logo-syllabic.

     Gilgamesh epic.

Surpassing all other kings.

Ozymandias. 

     Haikushner

Madame Tussaud look.

In-law; scofflaw; clapperclaw.

Keeps a kosher home.

     Mr. Ivanka

fails to pass a background check.

Whoopee, Kushioner!

     Haikugat

Gigolo music.

Waldorf after World War II.

Cugie draws cartoons.

     Fancies chihuahuas.

"Holiday in Mexico."

Abbe...? Meet Charo!

     Haikool

Menthol cigarette;

70-millimeters:
Brown and Williamson.

     Willie the Penguin;

Filter Kings & Super Longs:

Cancer of the lung.

      Haikualalumpur

Jungle...? Meet tin mine!

‘Lumpur’...? Local word for “mud.”
Twinn'd city...? Dubai.

     Say it in Malay:

Wilayah Persekutuan

Kuala Lumpur.

     Haikublaikahn

Genghis's grandchild;

Shi ying shao jing zhi lan feng:

Spring on Fragrant Hill.

     King o' the Mongols;

or, A Vision in a Dream:
person from Porlock.

     Haikukla

Fran(ces) Allison.

Cecil Bill and Beulah Witch.

Ollie and Fletcher.

     Madame Oglepuss.

Kuklapolitan Players.

'Puppet' per Putin.

 

Haikudrow 

Haikubrick

Haikuchen
Haikucinich
Haikudlow
Haikudos
Haikudu
Haikudzu
Haikugel
Haikuiperbelt
Haikukkiwon
Haikukulkan
Haikultur
Haikuklux
Haikumar
Haikumquat
Haikunegunda
Haikungfu
Haikupcinet
Haikuril
Haikurosawa
Haikurtvonnegut
Haikuwait
Haikuykendahl
Haikuzma

Runcibl'd Spooner: Fowl Bawl

He'll traipse through the timberlands.
channeling Stroud.
The Bird Watcher
     He'll channel the Rev'rend,
then misread...out loud.
The Word Botcher
     Moral:
Pick: little chicks or limericks!

Runcibl'd Spooner: Election 2020

The Republican Party's fortuities turn:
a shift in the Right.
They flutter, they bubble; they shudder, they churn:
a rift in the shite.
     Moral: 
Don't risk the fate of Drumpf. Tsk-tsk! Don't wait to jumpf!

Note the Coat: An Accumulation For Queneau (from "Exercises in Style: The Poetic Supplement," Number 261)

Notice the manteau de Jacques.

Note the lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Notice the button (it's off sev'ral spaces) 

defacing the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note the new button which, if nicely placed 

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note the chic colleague (a man Milan-based) 

who's suggesting a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Notice the space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where a colleague cum critic (most trend-setters are), 

stands suggesting a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note Monsieur Jacques (I've ignored him so far) 

just arrived at the space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where his trend-setting colleague (a binary star...?) 

stands suggesting a button which, if nicely placed 

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note how the bus seat's abandon'd by Jacques

as the bus, rush-hour stuff'd, putt-i-putts up the block --  

that same Jacques whom, hours later, I spot in the space 

near the gare Saint-Lazare where Jacques' friend's face-to-face

while suggesting a button which, if nicely placed 

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note how the bus seat, first emptied, then nabb'd, 

now's abandon'd by Jacques (perhaps Jacques should have cabb'd),  

whom some two hours later I spot in the space 

near the gare Saint-Lazare where his friend face-to-face

stands suggesting the button which, if nicely placed 

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note the commuters vacating the bus, 

and the vacated seat (vacant seats prove a plus)

first-off emptied, then grabb'd, then abandon'd by Jacques,

whom some two hours later I spot up the block 

in that wide-open space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where Jacques' trend-setting colleague (a haut-couture czar) 

stands suggesting a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Notice Jacques' leg, jostled (ouch!) by commuters 

(displaying the cheek of Penelope's suitors)

vacating the bus and one occupied seat

which, now empty, Jacques grabs then abandons (Vite! Vite!),

Jacques who two hours later I spot up the block 

in that wide-open space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where his trend-setting colleague, his jacket ajar,

stands suggesting a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Note the fedora, with string for a band,

on a head perch'd atop a neck (length...? Sev'ral hand!)

of frère Jacques -- him whose leg, jabb'd 'n' jogg'd by commuters

(behaving as rubes do in Checkers 'n' Hooters)

vacating the bus and one occupied seat

which, now empty, Jacques grabs then abandons (repeat),

Jacques who two hours later I spot up the street 

in that wide-open space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where his trend-setting colleague (post parking his car) 

stands suggesting a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Notice the platform, array'd 'round the rear

of the Contrescarpe-Champerret bus like a pier, 

onto which I have clamber'd while noting a chap,

one who's sporting a string-for-a-band sorta cap

and, as riders charge past, charges one fellow rider

of jostling his leg like some phantom collider

(who, raised in the wild, paid no heed to his tutors)

ignoring each unconcern'd rush-hour commuters

vacating the bus -- and the occupied seat

which, now empty, he snatches, then makes his retreat,

whom some two hours later I spot up the street 

in that wide-open space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where his trend-setting colleague I spot from afar

standing broaching a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.

Notice yours truly whose verse I premier

by ascending the platform engaging the rear

of the Contrescarpe-Champerret bus like a pier 

onto which I have clamber'd while noting a chap

who is sporting a string-for-a-band brand of cap

and, as riders charge past, charges one fellow rider

of jostling his leg like some phantom collider

(who, raised in the wild, paid no heed to his tutors) 

ignoring the unconcern'd rush-hour commuters

vacating the bus and th'unoccupied seat

which he grabs then abandons (once more I repeat),

whom some two hours later I spot up the street 

in the wide-open space near the gare Saint-Lazare 

where his trend-setting colleague, who holds his sitar,

stands suggesting a button which, if nicely placed

just adjacent that button so awkwardly spaced, 

will embellish the velvet lapel which embraces 

the manteau de Jacques.