Runcibl'd Spooner: Ah, there, GFH

Fuzzy slug. Later, bug. 

Woolly bear 

     MAGA hat on a prat. 

Bullywear 

     Moral 

Curse ‘em, sorta*

     * Or 'sursum corda,' as used 

to be chanted in certain quarters.

A Nonsense Plagiariana For Raymond Queneau (from "Exercises in Style: The Poetic Supplement," Number 262)

     Below is a fresh retelling employing the narrative ma-

terials provided by Queneau's "Notations" chapter in his 

Exercises, a reiteration incorporating the opening lines of 

twenty two famous novels drawn from the hundred best 

as determined by the American Book Review.

      You don't know about me without you have read 

a book by the name of Exercises in Style, but that ain't 

no matter. Call me Busman -- or Stately Plump Buck 

Mulligan if you've a mind -- for this is the saddest story 

you have ever heard. (In a sense I am Jacob Horner and 

I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.) 

     If you really want to hear about it, the first thing 

you'll probably want to know is where I was born. I am 

a Frenchman, Paris born – Paris, that city of screaming 

which comes across the sky. For a long time, on bright 

cold days in April, with the clocks striking thirteen, I 

would leave my bed early so as to catch an S-line bus. 

The platform at the back of that bus is a foreign country; 

they do things differently there. 

     Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of this tale, 

or whether that station shall be held by some grotesque 

skinny-necked twenty-six-year-old commuter in a string-

banded fedora, this page must show. Happy commuters 

are all alike; every unhappy commuter is unhappy in his 

own way. The Contrescarpe-Champerret busrun, past Eve 

and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of boulevard, 

brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to 

Cour de Rome in front of gare Saint-Lazare. It is a truth 

universally acknowledged, that a single commuter in pos-

session of a faulty overcoat, may be in want of a button. 

     Many hours later, as that odd fellow with the unusual 

hat (and the doubtless defective outerwear) faced the 

firing-squad inquisitions of his clotheshorse friend, he 

was to remember that moment earlier in the afternoon 

he became so annoyed when, as each rush-hour rider 

exited the bus, the man standing adjacent to his leg icily 

jostled him. "La-dee-dah! Like lightning I dive, like my 

loins are afire," he thought as he leapt into a just-vacated 

seat. "Surely this is the worst of times. And yet it is the 

best of times, for I am not invisible, man, and if I am 

out of my mind, it's all right with me."

     The novels pilfered, altered and married with the 

narrative are, in the order they are so abused and with

their ranking number in parentheses, The Adventures

of Huckleberry Finn (12), Moby Dick (1), Ulysses (21), 

The Good Soldier (18), The End of the Road (34), I 

Capture the Castle (82), The Catcher in the Rye (16), 

The Adventures of Augie March (89), Gravity's Rainbow

(3), Swann's Way (40), 1984 (8), The Go-Between (78), 

David Copperfield (20), Anna Karenina (6), Finnegans 

Wake (7), Pride and Prejudice (2), One Hundred Years 

of Solitude (4), Lolita (5), A Tale of Two Cities (9), 

Invisible Man (10) and Herzog (69). 

Runcibl'ed Spooner: Appealing Peeling

"Skip"* reveals one's fam'ly tree.
He myths ancestral buries.
"Finding Your Roots"
     Scraping peels off lemons, limes,
and oranges. (Not cherries.)
Rinding your fruits
     Moral:

Incest and zest: only one is the best.

     * Henry Louis ("Skip") Gates

Haikumquat by Basho, Jr. ("The Linguist")

Lexical items;
informational structures:
Squish! Syllable word.

Runcibl'd Spooner: "You Rang, M'Lord...?"

The Vice-President's son.
(He's just one of the guys):
R. Hunter Biden
     Lord Peter's valet,
the man's donn'd a disguise:
Our Bunter, hidin.'
     Moral:
Crime may not pay.

Runcibl'd Spooner: "You're Nick'd!"

In London's the headquarters housing the cops

who give scofflaws 'n' crim'nals 'what for.'

Scotland Yard
     A firebug has lit up our lux'ry boat store,

destroying its whole second floor.
Yachtland's scarr'd.

     Moral:

Crime doesn't pay. Still, anchors aweigh!

Uly Poe's Sixth Voyage 'Round Archaedia: An Internally Rhyming Alphabet

A is for Andy: at 90, still randy.
B is for Billie: calls Andy “Sir Silly.”
C is for Clarke, who’s constructing an ark.
D is for Doris, caught bleeding her loris.
E is for Errol. Thank God the man’s sterile.
F is for Fran: starts each morning with bran.
G is for Gretchen, a femme fa-a-ar from fetchin.’
H is for Heidi: takes meals in her nightie.
I is for Ivan. (Is Ivan still drivin’…?)
J is for Jill, who’s rewriting her will.
K is for Keith. Keith’s been filing his teeth.
L’s for Laurindo: he flaunts his bay window.
M’s for Miranda: she breast feeds her panda.
N’s for Noreen of the proactive spleen.
O is for Otto: “Right now!”’s his new motto.
P’s for Pilar: keeps one eye in a jar.
Q is for Quinn. None know what state he’s in.
R is for Ross, First Floor Teaparty boss.
S is for Stephen, whose left leg’s uneven.
T is for Thor: shouts, “I’ll give ya ‘what for’!”
U’s for Ulysses: has no time for “sissies.”
V is for Vaughn. (Are those spats he has on…?)
W’s Wayne, who pretends to be Shane.
X is for Xavier. His issue’s behavior.
Y is for Yuri: a man in no hurry.
Z is for Zoltan: poor blighter’s been moultin.’

Uly Poe's Fifth Voyage 'Round Archaedia: An Alphabet

A’s for Arlette: former fundraiser (SIDS).
B is for Bruce, who hates ev’ryone’s kids.
C is for Cass: overdoes the mascara.
D’s for Demi, who pretends she’s in Tara.
E’s for Elaine. She’s now buried six husbands.
F is for Flo, who’s just cash’d out her trust funds.
G’s for Georgette, who wears wa-a-ay too much rouge.
H is for Huck. Huck fell off of his luge.
I is for Iphigenia. She died.
J is for Joel: ends most Friday nights fried.
K is for Kieran, who bench presses barbells.
L’s for Letitia, who’s lost all her marbles.
M’s for Marie, who burlesques Baba Yaga.
N’s for Noël, whom they call “Granny Gaga.”
O is for Otto, a twin amputee.
P is for Pat, who snorts “Vitamin Z.”
Q is for Quill, duly praised for her cursive
R is for Reg: edits Senior Subversive.
S is for Sylvie, who knits for the troops.
T is for Trevor: Trev’s frankfurter droops.
U is for Ulmer, whose dandruff’s neglected.
V is for Vaclav. He’s dead (it’s suspected).
W’s Wim who bowls 71.
X is for Xim, who shows zero pulse – none.
Y is for Yip: bowled a 72.
Z is for Zane. Hey, Zane:: how old are you…?

Uly Poe's Fourth Voyage 'Round Archaedia: An Alphabet

A is for Axl, allergic to mold.
B is for Beryl: she will not be told.
C is for Chester, who suffers from shingles.
D is for Dodie: her left pinkie tingles.
E is for Efrem, whose lung shows a spot.
F is for Fran who frets, “Why’s it so hot…?”
G is for George: feels discomfort when sitting.
H is for Hope, who got punctured while knitting.
I is for Ina: ignor’d by her kids.
J is for Joan: calls all widows “The Wids.”
K is for Kate, always draped in a shawl.
L’s for Lorraine: has a thing for Rand Paul.
M is for Mel: endured cataract surgery.
N is for Nita: served six months for perjury.
O’s for Odette, who gets lost at the mall.
P is for Phillip, who “used to be tall.”
Q is for Quilla: she’s down with pneumonia.
R is for Roger who calls himself “Sonia.”
S is for Sam: hopes for one last hurrah.
T is for Trudy, who “misplaced” her bra.
U is for Ulric: he’s under the weather.
V is for Van, who is now into leather.
W’s Wilson, who won’t take his Plavix.
X is for Xilla, who frets, “They don’t have Vicks.”
Y is for Yan: hits you up for a fiver.
Z is for Zeph: in the end, a survivor.

Uly Poe's Third Voyage 'Round Archaedia: An Alphabet

A is for Alma who’s alter’d her will.
B is for Bob's boast: “I’m under the hill!”
C is for Constance who voted for Hoover.
D is for Den: neither shaker nor mover.
E is for Emma. Her race…? Almost run.
F is for Fenton. He's purchased a gun.
G is for Grace: she has good days and bad.
H is for Hank: calls my iphone “a fad.”
I’s for Inez who has doctor’d her age.
J is for Johann. (Dementia, third stage.)
K is for Kathryn, a petulant scold.
L is for Lon whose great-granddaughter’s old.
M is for Max who’s develop’d a goiter.
N is for Nan: claims the gateman “annoy’d” her.
O is for Oz: keeps a floozie in town.
P is for Paula. Her toenails turn’d brown.
Q is for Quentin. Rose claims Quentin died.
R is for Rose: claims the newspaper lied.
S is for Shirl: mixes hounds tooth with plaid.
T is for Tim who pass’d. (Ulmer’s so-o-o sad.)
U is for Ulmer: he’s taken up snuff.
V is for Vaughn. “Vaughn! Get offa yer duff!”
W’s Walt, who tells sick shaggy dogs.
X is for Xeno: he posts tell-all blogs.
Y is for Yasser. His room lacks a view.
Z is for Zoë. Don’t know her. Do you…?

Runcibl'd Spooner: Another "I Lack Fives" Matter...?

Your final exam now is over.
(You need ne'er again bear such a grilling.) 
Pencils down!
     You owe Mr. Washington twenty.
D'you intend to him lend ev'ry shilling...?
Denzel's poun.'
     Moral:

Lay back! Pay back!