Search This Blog

Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Q&A...&A

Might A be Anna's arabesque
augmenting half Alf's partners desk...?
Nope, A be Alfie's amphigory 
airbrush'd in Ann's lavatory.
(Also -- view'd through Pink's pink prism -- 
A's an Attic witticism.)

Might B be Baby's badinage 
begun while boxing Bubb's corsage...?
Nope, B be Bubba's balderdash 
begat while brushing Babe's mustache...
unless B's baked in Boursin cheese: 
in that case, B’s a bald betise.

Might C be Caesar's* calembours 
contrived behind closed cellar doors...?
Nope, C be Coca's** coups de plume 
concocted in Sid's coke-fill'd room,
except when cow'ring in Sid's ditch: 
in that case, C's a carrawitch.

     * Sid Caesar   ** Imogene Coca

Might D be Dodgson's* dunciad 
discover'd in some deacon's pad...?
Nope, D be D'Indy's doubl'-entente 
deliver'd dans Drood's Restaurant,
unless D's deem'd cajolery: 
in that case D's (duh!) drollery.

     * Charles Lutwidge Dodgson

Might E be Edward's escapades 
engaged in with three upstairs maids...?
Nope, E be Eddie's equivokes, 
whose end line rhymes, "Take heart, Joe Doakes!"
Unless at eight pence to the pound 
E's priced. Then, E's an empty sound.

If F's for Fifi's foolishness 
fomented from Flo's olive press,
F's not, for fun, her flummeries 
(film footage offers summaries),
unless said film be conterfeit: 
in that case, F's a flash o' wit.

Might G be "Godot"'s gobbl'ygook 
grok'd graven in Gott's grading book...?
Nope, G be Garbo's "gallicisms" -- 
Greta's anti-Semitisms...(?)
Garnering gefiltefish, 
this G's Ed Gorey's gibberish.

Might H be Hugh's hyperbole 
hatched mute -- i.e., nonverbally..?
Oh, no, H be Hef's hebetude -- 
what attitude! -- his hips half nude,
unless Hef's Hoovers halt their raids. 
Then, H be Hefner's harl'quinades.

Might I be Idi's "idi-"'-cies 
inflicted on Ike's tse-tse’s knees...?
Nope, I be Ireland's Irish bulls -- 
in Innishfree, they’ve firkinfuls;
still, inside Iceland's bourgeoisie, 
there I's an imbecility.

Might J be Jean-Jacques' jabberwockies 
jotted down while sipping sakis...?
Nope, J's Joseph's jeu d'esprit -- 
jejune, like J. J.'s jamboree,
unless Joe's jokes be quid pro quo
Then, J's jests...? Just junk jeu de mots.

Might K be Keith's kid's kakapoo 
as squawk'd (hawk'd...?) through Ken's bass kazoo...? 
Nope, K be "Krazee Kinkajou," 
that kids'-show host (KQFU). 
And what if K. K. -- kidnapp'd -- dies...? 
Then, K be Krazee's kaddish, guys.

Might L be Lisle's light levity 
co-linking length with brevity...? 
Nope, L be Lulu's lunacy 
(illegal in Altoona, si...?)...
unless that L will prove legit: 
in that case, L's your lack o' wit.

M maybe mimics merriments 
made up by Mali's malcontents...? 
Mais non, M's Mommie's mots pour rire 
(though neither's music to mine ear), 
unless Mom's 'nom de mime' be "Mick." 
In that case, M's Ma's monkey trick.

Might N be Norns' nugacity 
nuancing one Butch Cassidy...? 
Nope, N's a nugae canorae 
announced when 'noshing rhubarb pie, 
though not when watching "Frasier," see...? 
Then, N is Niles' niaiserie.

Ought O be for our oddities 
occurring in these ABCs...? 
Nope, O's for one obscurum per 
obscurius (one can but stare). 
(Throughout Ontario today, 
Os be for our oui dires, eh...?

Might P be peoples' poppy-cock 
(pronounced as "ph'ah'q" in Languedoc)...? 
Nope, P be Popi's persiflage 
perform'd while "perping" Pip's "massage," 
unless Pop's prattle's rife with surds. 
Then, P's a pun -- a play on words.

Might Q be Queequeg's quid pro quo...? 
(I'd quite concur if Q said, "No.") 
"No, Q be quite the quiddity," 
quoth you, with queer acidity...
unless said quipper fires point-blank. 
Then, Q's Quixote's quip 'n' crank."

Are Rs for Ryder's raillery 
recounted 'round Red's Whalery...? 
Nope, R's for Ringo's repartee. 
His "co-Starr" (retrogressively) 
is Belle: Rick's arse feels "rather droll." 
(Perhaps his R's for rigmarole.)

Is (was...?) Ms Suze's silliness 
subscribed to sporting fancy dress...? 
Nope, S is Stu's stultiloquence 
suggested o'er Soc's stockade fence...
'cept Sunday week: 'Tis Hallowmas!
Then, S shows Salman's sounding brass.

Might T be Trigve's thing'majig 
translated whilst Trot trims Trig's wig...? 
Not! T be Trot's tomfoolery. 
(Trot tripp'd whilst thieving jewelry.) 
And if the true thief's less than nimble,
this T's, then, a tinkling cymbal.

Might U be your ultravagance 
unleashed while mugging nonchalance...? 
No, U be unintelligence 
intoned while burning frankincense...
unless you misquote Watson-Crick: 
then, U's an urban ledjend (sic).

Might V be Vernon's verbal quirks...? 
(He visits 'em on var'ous jerks.) 
Vay, no: V's vox et praet'rae ni'l
voiced softly, 'neath Vin's windowsill. 
We've felt, however, V's vibrations.
So-o-o-o...V be vermiculations.

Why's W a waggishness 
express'd whilst weeding watercress 
when W's more witticism...?
(Mum's the word: no criticism!)
Yet...when whale meat warms Wim's dim sum,
W'd be want o' wisdom.

Might X be texts --"Xanthippe's Tirades,"
ex. grat. -- penn'd by Marxist mermaids...?
Nope, X be xylarity 
(though, spelt with 'x,' a rarity)...
unless said X relaxes us: 
then, X be my xyphopagus.

Might Y be all that yettering 
you've vetted at Sloan-Kettering...? 
Yes...No! Y be your yap 'n' yammer
yell'd while editing my grammar.
Yet, if you don't give a darn, 
in that case, Y's some navvy's yarn.

Might Z be zazen zanyism
zoned to hone post-modernism...?
No way! Z's Zeke's slow-paced zizz 
(though paradox Zeke's zephyr is). 
If those zeds bring semantic fits, 
then (zounds!)...this Z's for Zasu Pitts!

Qs&NoAs

Flamingos...? Skinks...? Koala bears...?
Full houses...? Royal flushes...? Pairs...?
Secur'd investments...? Stocks 'n' shares...?
Who...?s...? When...?s...? Wha-a-azzup…?s...? How...?s...? Why...?s...? Where...?s...?

Mary Shelleys...? Dumas peres...?
Stiltons…? Emmentals…? Gruyeres...?
What the...?s...? So what!s...? C'est la guerres...?
When...?s...? How...?s...? Wha-a-azzup...?s...? Who...?s...? Why...?s...? Where...?s...?

Foxes...? Fun Furs...? Human hairs...?
Pantries...? Attics...? Cellar stairs...?
Cancers...? Ear aches...? Mal de meres...?
How...?s...? Who...?s...? Wha-a-azzup..?s...? Why...?s...? When...?s...? Where...?s...?

Stems...? Corsages...? Boutonnieres...?
Cryptic crosswords...? Truth or Dares...?
Uncirculateds…? Mint states...? Rares…?
When...?s...? How...?s...? Wha-a-azzup…?s...? Who...?s...? what...?s...? Where...?s...?


Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Quotes Within Quotes

I read where it said, 
"She wrote (and we quote), 
'They sang without pang: 
"We think you ALL stink!" ' " 

Requiem for a Featherweight

Remember the drinking bird heat engine toy? 
You may have called yours the insatiable birdie 
or the dunking bird or the dipping bird or even 
(incorrectly, of course) the dinky bird perpetual 
motion machine. Whatever you called it, I can 
assure you it was nothing at all like mine. 

Say “slainte!” to me Drinkin’ Bird.
(His cocktails…? Shaken, never stirr’d.)
Propose a toast! Me clinkin’ bird
will belt his next, throw down a third,
a fourth, a…”’Nuf! Tha’s sinkin,’ Bird.
Tha face be flush’d. Tha speech be slurr’d.”
(Me Drinkin’ Birds’s one stinkin’ bird.)

“Tha’ll lose thy eyesight, Drinkin’ Bird,
if tha’s glaucoma goes uncur’d.”
(At home I calls ‘im “Winkin’ Bird”;
four floaters leave his pupils blurr’d.
But dons he specs…? Not Blinkin’ Bird.
His fear…? Folks finger him a nerd.
(Me Drinkin’ Bird’s no thinkin’ bird.)

Reminds me, does me Drinkin' Bird,
of authors' fashionin's through word.
There's Whitman's thrush.* (Walt's "Lincoln bird"...?)
There's Nod and Wynken (Blynken's third;
I once knew Field's verse** word-for-word).
There's Ary Hoffman's shrinkin' bird.***
(Though climate change has spawn'd a herd,
still activists bide, undeterr'd.)
     * Footnotes to come

Play’d Steinways, did me Drinkin’ bird.
Like Liberace, Bird play’d furr’d
(all ermin’d up: no Minkin’ bird)
and swann’d about like hell, I’ve heard.
He oft were bill’d “Ye Plinkin’ Bird.”
(A memoir’s due. ‘Tis too absurd:
this turd’s become an inkin’ bird.)

“Yet ars runs longa, Drinkin’ bird.
Tha’s denoument’s too long deferr’d.
No longer be tha ‘Brink’in’ Bird.
Tha’s due to be in hearse chauffeur’d.
In zinc-lined urn shall Zincin’ Bird,
ex-drinkin’ buddy, be interr’d.
(En fin, me friend’s a Finkin’ Bird.)

Monday, October 7, 2019

Rewrite

At night, cliches drawn through the day 
I deign to frame another way -- 
e.g., "To be or not to be...?" 
becomes "Is suicide for me...?"
"A jug of wine, a loaf of bread..." 
I hear as "Rye...on rye!" instead. 

At night, the lines I’ve run across 
I recompose with no great loss.
What reads "A stitch in time saves nine" 
now reads, "That tatter'd sleeve…? Not mine!"
"It was a dark and stormy night" 
becomes "The weather suck'd. Alright...?" 

At night, I rewrite news (today's) 
in nuanc’d, neat and novel ways --
now "Climate change is here to stay" 
reads "Hey! How hot it feels today!"
What was "I'm Socially Secure!" 
is now "Quit working…? Premature!" 

At night, the tales I heard when young 
sound different, like a foreign tongue.
Now, "Once upon a time there was..." 
is "That can't happen here because'..."
while "ever after" has become 
"your sell-by date's expir’d, ol’ chum."

Rhymes with 'Fourth'

Pascal et. al. (no others…?) shall not perish from the earth
till men, with mirth, head north to Firth o’ Forth (or Forth o’ Firth),
till men of girth and noble birth, set sail and sally forth…
[Next adding I’m one visu’l rhyme: not ‘fourth’ but, rather, ‘worth.’]

Rhymes with "Tom O'Nimble, Homonymbol"

     ...Abe
Lincoln...
'A,' blinkin'...
ape-link kin...
hey, Blynkin...?
     (Now, 
what must a linguist like Chomsky be thinkin'...? 
    * Partner in Wynkin/Nod & Associates

     ...be-
lievers...
'B' levers...
Bea'll leave hers...
Beale! Heave furs! 
     More 
issues unbroach'd by Ricardos* or Cleavers...?** 
    * Ricky & Lucy  ** Ward & June

     ...sees the
Sargasso Sea...
seize cigar gas, hose 'C'! 
     (Both would 
go unremark'd, were things left up to me.)

     ...comedy...
comma'd 'D,'...
calm Midi...
Colm...? Meet Dhee!
Each you've examin'd, though few do you see.

     ...a
treaty...
a treed 'E'...
Hut Tree Tea...
Hud, 3-D! 
     In-
telligent...? Nope. Apropos...? Yes, indeedy...!

     ...the
stone-deaf...
the stoned 'F'...
the stone Nef*...
thus toned, eff-______...  
     No 
messages, Hugh...? Why has nobody phoned, Hef...?)
     * The famous Nefertiti limestone bust

     ...the
genome...
the 'G' gnome...
the Jean Home...
thug Gene Holme…
     Four 
exiles! For decades they've not even seen home...

     ...old
age...
holed 'H'...
hold, Daitche! 
Whole day...? Je-_____...
     Each 
savant a jester; each joker a sage...

     ...the
ice axe...
the 'I' sax...
the eye's sacks...
thee, I, zacs... 
     My 
software she -- not once, not twice, but three times -- hacks...!

     ...a
jailhouse...
a 'J' louse...
hutch/alehouse...
Hudge, eh...? (Louse!) 
     Live 
embers one must with one's firefighter's pail douse...

     ...Auntie
Kay...
antique 'K'...
an' teak...? Hey! 
And: decay...
     As do 
Marlowe and Huxley, we note antic hay...

     ...a mo-
tel...
a moat...? Hell! 
'la mode 'L'...
amo d'El _____...
     So...which 
tale will to Curly and Larry Mo tell...?

...diadem...
dyad 'M'...
Dye-A-Dem...
"Die, Haddem!"
Each brings one luck. (Have no truck with no triad 'M'...)

     ...be-
hold: 'N'! 
Bea, holdin'...
bee hole/den...
be whole, Den! 
     Four 
homonym'd phrases (that third one is golden)...

     ...billed: the 
Sky Pilot 'O'...
build the Skype pile o' dough...
     Jammin' 
cats in pajamas scat, "Voh-dee-oh-doh...!"

     ...four
canapes...
for can o' 'P's...
fork Kanna peas...
for Kahn: hope, peace...
     Who'd 
can a man from Pakistan you cannot stand -- but can appease...?

     ...the
"I'll hike 'Q'"...
the jai alai queue...
the aisle I cue...
thee "Heil," Ike...You!! 
     For 
I, like you, don't like haiku, although -- no lie! -- I'd (sigh) like to...

     ...the
hard Hardy 'R'...
the heart-hearty "Arrr-r-r-r-r-r-rrr...!" 
     The 
heart ER's hard at work...? Har-dee-har-har...

     ...shares 
morning recess 
as Cher's mourning Reese Hess! 
     (De ré-
sistance…? She's futile -- 
oui, even pièces…) 

      ...duty
calls....
dude...? 'T' galls...
due: Tea (Gauls'...?)...
dew'd teak halls... 
     These be 
homonyms rude -- but not too rude...Ee-ee-ee-eek! (Balls!) 

      ...Isle of 
'U'...
I'll off Hugh...
Eyloff Ewe...
"Heil!" (a few)... 
     I love 
you...? Best to use these three: 'aisle,' 'huff' 'n' 'hue...'

      ...hel-
lo, VIPS...
(No...?) 
Hell: 'O'/'V' eyepiece... 
     Ring the 
Royal Canadian Mounted Police...!

      ...double 
you...
dub Bull "Hugh"...
double-U..
double hue... 
     Fooled us 
twice, Dubya, did. (Was it much trouble to...?)

      ...the
Second Sex...
the second's 'X'...
thus Hec conn'd Dex...
the secant's hex... 
     The 
dueler's Burr: my cousin dates his second ex. (His second's Tex...) 

      ...though,
why not...?...
thou whine, Ott...
the 'Y' knot...
the Wynotte. 
     Which 
homonym...? You choose. (Just don't serve the wine hot...)

      ...a
zebra...
a Z bra...
ass/zebra...
I seep -- rah! 
     A-
bove, so below. (Just don't go with no libra!)

Roads to Perdition

Tourists trav’lling through LA
drive turnpikes trimm’d in gilt ‘n’ tinsel,
Caddies pink will match each mink,
as limos' pairs of out-sized fins’ll.

     In 
Washington, D.C., 
     each 
avenue you see…
     seeming 
freshly paved in macaddams of money,
     is, in 
fact, baksheesh that’s blacken’d, 
     backpack’d 
in, by PACs, on pachs and 
     stack’d in 
sacks (knap-, haver-, ruck-, sling-, fanny-, gunny-).

They’ve main drags in Miami
paved in powder, gloss, mascara,
breast enhancements, hair extensions, cell-…
Oh, well: que sera sera.

Most major Motown miles
one drives not over tiles
but gobs of cobblestones of obsolescence.
The lessons thereby taught
(or so I’ve always thought)
are: Roads Be Earned. (But have they learn'd those lessons…?)

The streets of San Francisco
(we’re not to call it ‘Frisco’)
are paved in waves of multi-colored mufti.
I cannot tell a lie:
they’re fashion’d either by…
Edward Tufte -- or that magic dragon Puff de.

Vias in the Vatican
are paved in male machismos.
Cease, priests! Please sheath beneath your briefs
your busy little gizmos!

"King Dump": "Ubu Roi" Reimagined Yet Again

  (More to come; a work in progress.)