Ozzo or Revenge Of The Pool Noodles

Nyx Nixes Nox

One Friday in Sept., 

Mr. Poe went to bed in his clothes.
But this soul rarely slept, 

making do with one haphazard doze.
He'd forgotten, no doubt, 

to slip out of his semi-brogue shoes.
(Had he done so, at worst 

he'd hav'd managed to, fitfully, snooze.)

"I'm too drain'd to disrobe, 

to drop trou, to get fully undress'd --

to but take off this button-down shirt. 

Yet I do need my rest.

If perhaps I start slowly -- 

say, doffing my milit'ry cap -- 

then might Itzpapalotl* 

kowtow -- and allow me a nap...?"

     * Aztec goddess of the stars

One Friday in Sept.,

Uly Poe went to bed in his clothes.

Next morning he wept

as he rued the decision he chose.

"Elsewhere, I might dare 

to get shut of those earmuffs I got

in my stocking last Christmas.

But here in Cape Fear...? I fear not."

(One advantage of earmuffs:

they Saturday morn's ruckus muffle.

Neighbors running young Russells,

the garbage men's recycling scuffle,

all fail to arouse, 

notwithstanding one lies fully dress'd.

Which bodes well -- as, unrested,

one's gestes might just lead to arrest.

On Friday in Sept.,

if a poet's in bed in his clothes...

(More to come: a work in progress)

Black Lives Patres: A Call For Activists, Masculine-Type, With A Nod To Their Respective Raven Regalia

Fannie Lou. Parks (Rosa), too.

We lack not Black Lives Matres.

So: where be bros...? We need, Lord knows,

some active Black Live Patres...? 

To save poor Hutu, Bishop Tutu
wields a Black Lives Mitre
to poke the pates of folk he hates
while crying, "Take that, blighter!"

The actor Sidney Poitier 

employs a Black Lives Meter

to trace the rates at which his mates

fund Afrocentric the'ter.

Chef Grant (Jerome when he's at home)

employs a Black Lives Mortar

to grind each herb in his superb

stuff'd trout. (I'm a supporter.)

Track-and-field star Jesse Owens

was a Black Lives Mudder.

'Twas not his bane to trot in rain.

(Imagine mud: you'll shudder.)

To oft enthrall us, Bubba Wallace

drives a Black Lives Motor.

No stars 'n' bars grace Bubba's cars:

Bubb ain't no Drumpf promotor.

Police destroy'd George Perry Floyd. 

Another Black Lives Martyr.

What's to be done...? Can anyone

spell 'Justice,' for a starter...?

Make trouble good, John Lewis would.

Was John a Black Lives "Merde!"er...?

I'm thinking not. John's people taught

him well: "John didn't dare ter."

Are Walmart greeters Black Lives Meeters...?

Difficult to tell.

But ev'ry Black Lives Murder trigger man

belongs in hell.

Look Who's Watching!

It once was call’d the USA.
Its polis…? All-American!
But that, ex-pat, was yesterday.
It's now call'd Upper Handustan.

The tyrant there’s a billionaire,
an autocratic gooberman
who swears allegiance to the Con-

stitution...NOT! (Because he can,

he swears allegiance to the ban-
derole of Upper Handustan.)

Ballade Of A Black Lives Mater or Pieces Of A Meme

She's to the Black Lives Matter born.
She's scaled the Black Lives Matterhorn.
This Black Lives Batting-Caged Bird sings,
and I know why: she's seen some things.

White physicists dark matter probe,

though such stuff foils one's frontal lobe.

Were they with Black Lives matter faced,

her civil rights she'd see erased.

Like Carroll's Mad (Lives) Hatter, she

(not Anul Chandra Chatterjee)

deploys some Black Lives patter. (Me...?

I feel her spiel's too chattery.)

But, fans: needs answering my bladder.

Yet I, too, cry "Black Lives Matter."

If you don't, I scorn "pro rata":

with ya'll whatsa (Black Lives) matta...?

Putting The Con Back In Congress

SCOTUS-stuffer Mitch McConnell 
will more damage do than Don'll,
jackin' Joe's agenda. Goniff
be the Senate's Mitch McConniff! 

                                            

Lone Star State congressman Louie B. Gohmert:

far dimmer than Fibber McGee with his "Oh...Myrt...?"
If only the Mafia's honor'd omertà
were practiced by congressman Louie Gohmertà. 

                                                               

 

Señor Sid O’Zinn’s Seventh Voyage ‘Round Archaedian Acres Retirement Village (Another Gashlycrumb Sequel)

A’s for Alexis. Lord knows what her sex is!
B is for Bryan. His budg'rigar's dyin.’
C is for Claude. Claude’s complexion is flaw’d.
D is for Don. Jogs with not a stitch on.
E’s for Edwina. (Don serv'd her subpoena.)

F is for Fritz. Keep your distance: Fritz spits.
G is for Gil. He's (quote): "Under the hill."
H is for Hugh. I'd steer clear, were I you.  
I is for Iris. Her skin’s like papyrus.
J is for Junior. There pants no prat punier.
K is for Kyle. His “How wah ya...?"…? “Sieg Heil!”
L is for Lou. Lou moons, "Mine lacks a view.”
M’s for Manchu. Moans, "More tiramisu!"
N is for Norm. Calls pornography ‘porm.’
O is for Ollie. Don’t seek to meet “Dolly.”
P is for Pearl. Spoke in tongues as a girl.
Q is for Quinlin out gatherin' "kindlin.’"  
R is for Rex. Mixes plaids, stripes 'n' checks.
S is for Sol. Never “you." Always “y’all.”
T is for Truman. ‘Bout Drumpf Tru’s still fumin.’
U is for Urban. His breath...? Most disturbin.'
V is for Vlad. False Dmitry's his dad.

W’s Walt: “It’s them Dumbocrats’ fault.”
X is for Xena. Her nose has grown leana.
Y’s for Yvonne. Bakes one wild garlic naan.
Z is for Zack. Twelve years passing for black.

...," He Said, Ernestly: 20+ Questin's (sic) or The First (Last...?) Annual 'Oscar Wilde' Nonsense Short Short Story Invitational: Potential (i.e., Oulipo-Urged) Shenanagram-Prompted Purple Prose Passages and Picture-Postcard-Painted Patois

     'Oscar Wilde': every 

anagram prompts a poetic 

plot. So...? Get on with it, 

you "potentielle" Queneaus!

O, S, C, A, R, W, I, L, D, E

A, C, D, E, I, L, O, R, S, W

A, E, I, O, C, D, L, R, S, W

C, D, L, R, S, W, A, E, I, O

A solid crew  X 

A cowl dries  X 

A crow'd isle  X 

A deco swirl  X

Air'd "Le Scow"

Air'd Lew's CO  

Alice words

Alice's word  X 

Ali's Roc Dew

Ali's Roc Wed  X

Ali! We scor'd!  X

al'ows cider

a slow recid

A word slice

Alice sword

A wordsicle  X

A row, sliced

Cold Ears, WI  X 

Cilea Sword  X

Clas'...? "Widower."  X 

Cold, I swear!  X 

C.O.D. air slew

Cried Sal: "Wo'!"  X 

CA rides low.

Car's oil...? Dew!  X

(C): A Wild Rose  X

Cora is lewd.  X

"Cor!"...? Wel' said!  X

Coward lies.  X   

Coward's lie

Cows derail! 

Crowd aisle!

Cawdor Isle  X 

Cries, "A wold!"  X 

Crowe's Dali  X

Carol's wide.

DCI Al swore.  X

Driscol' awe

DA cries, "Owl!"  X 

Dear ol' Wics:  X

Dire Slaw Co. 

Doric Wales  X

DOW's a relic.  X

De laws o' Ric  X 

DWI! Leo's car...?  X

Do eclairs w____...?

Dice...? Or laws...?  X

 

E. coli wards  X 

"'e cwasi, Lord!" 

El Cid...or was. 

Eric...? S! Aldo...? W!

"...'eld i' ascrow." 

El Cid saw Ro-...

"...ears...lid...cow!"

Erica's wold

Eric's a wold. 

Eric was old.  X

Ilsa Wecord 

Ideal crows 

I draw Cole's  X

I'd wear clo's  X

I also crew'd.  X

I do Al's crew.

I draw close.

I raced...s  l  o  w  X

Is Lear cow'd...?

I slew Draco.  X

I saw ER Doc L.  X 

I -- cold! -- swear. 

I was colder.

I lose...? Ward C!  

I scared Owl.  X 

Lear is cow'd  X  

Law code, sir!  X

Lois Cardew

Low cars die.

Low C, raised  X 

A lower disc.  X 

Le Disco War   x 

Low sidecar

Lo! Icewards!

La Screw...? Dio!

Lew...? Cora...? Sid...?  X

Oil Ace Rd., S.W.  X 

Or slaw iced  X

Old Wis'acre  X 

Ol' Deric saw.

Or, dis a clew

O, scar'd wile!

Ow! d'Arc lies!  X

(O) Sliced raw

Ow'd eclairs  X 

Or El Cid was.  X

Or El Cid saw. 

Oscar Wilde

Owl Sidecar 

 

Raid Lew's CO  X 

"Rowli**cades"  X

re: a soil'd WC  X

Reads, "Wilco!"  X 

Scrod wi' ale

Scio 'wad'ler' 

So weird, Cal!  X 

Scowler Aid

Seward Coil 

Sie World, CA  X

Sacred owl...? I...?

Sac' o' rildew  X

Sid...? Lew...? Cora...?

Sired a...clow...?  X

"Soldier...?" "WAC!"  X

So, El Cid: war...? 

Sailor, WCed

Saw roc...? Lied.

S read: "Wilco."  X

"...," said Le Crow. 

Sri de la Cow

Slower acid

Soiled craw  X 

Wade, Cloris! 

Wid' col' ears 

Worse: Cali'd!  X 

Woc lids are  X 

W card...? I lose. 

Wid' escarol'  X

Walid's core

Waldo cries  X 

Wide ol' cars  X

Waldo's rice.

W: "La...si..." "C: "Re...do!"  X

Weird colas  X

"We's cordial!"

We...? Sic Roald...?     

We'd sic Arlo. 

We soil'd Arc. 

WC read soli.     

Wide corals

Wails, "Credo..."  X

Wace is Lord!  X 
We roal'd (sic).  X

Wed Lorca...? Si!  X

Omen or The Emigre Dragomen's 24 Prognostichs: Some Nomen's Omens, Complete (4 x 3 x 2 x 1 = 24) & In Strict Dactylic Hexameters

'Ev'rything' -- nom'native singular neuter -- 

in Latin...? That's 'omne.

'Draggin' yer feet with respect to them chores, be ya...? 

Best to git on 'em     

Who got the last round of Belgians...? You say you did...? 

Next round's on me!

Land of 10,000 lakes whistle-stop, is it...? 

Oë, MN.     

Twin'd, in the southwestern desert, with Oë...? 

That's Oë, NM.

That poem of yours...? It's (like) totally nonsense! 

(Your poem's a noem.)

Who question'd Socrates, "Tell me: is arete 

teachable...?" Meno.
'New,' its m silent (remember...? It's just like 

'mnemonic'): that's 'mneo.'     

Faucets -- for bathrooms, for kitchens 'n' shower heads...

wherever: Moen.
Let me admonish, advise and explain. I.e., 

please let me mone!    

Hamlet (it's likewise a river) in Hants (read 

'in Hampshire'): that's Meon.

Norse, when compell'd to spell 'something' 

with silent Greek m, may spell 'mnoe.' 

     

French football manager born in the '50s...? 

Just one: Albert Emon.     

In "The Wizard of Oz," someone falls in a hog pen...? 

Was that Auntie Em...? No.

'Mongst abecedarial eons, which one follows L...? 

Eon M.
One of some thirty-six ancient Egyptian divisions...? 

That's nome. 

Yahoo Finance boasts a media network. 

Hire EOMN.
Domain names need regist'ring; web sites need hosting. 

And thus there is Enom.

You want height-adjustable table base tech...? 

That's electric...? Call Enmo.
Norristown Area High School Alumni 

(well, some): NMOE. 

God bless Nick Meo! Nick seeks better patient care, 

tweets @nmeo.
Tell me the name of that gas which fills tubes 

used in signs...? Is it 'neom'...?

Slumberland visitor...? Undersea vision'ry...? 

Both well-named Nemo.
Emigre dragomen's 24 portents...? 

"Amen" to each omen. 

In Handustan, Illustrated

Lord Rajher Manorbourne, explorer,
wars on foreign shores. (The horror!)
Weeks he wends au caravan
to, lately, land in Handustan. 

Lord Rajher and Russell

Says Rajher, "More's the merrier!"

So joining him's his terrier,

dubb'd Russell: one ear black, one tan.

Best friend of man...in Handustan.

Who likewise lurks at Rajher's side...?
Fist-Hugh, tann'd Handustani guide,
a whiz in Bible and Quran.
He'll quote you verse...in Handustan.

Harry ("Krishna") Fist-Hugh

 

His valet, Freitag, jack of all,

displays his many-color'd shawl.
Although he'll tell you, "I'm yer man,"
he's Rajher's man...in Handustan.

Lord Rajher's man Freitag

(More "In Handustan" to come, 

including additional images; 

a work in progress.) 

Bennett Cerf Redux or Go, West!

Of widely known Wests...? Here's a trey: 

there's Kanye, Cornel...and there's Mae.

Kanye's Rajah of Rap.
Cornel's teeth show a gap. 
And everyone understands Mae.

Of Wests...? Here's two hers and a him:

there's Jessamyn, Kimber and Jim.

Jess's novels...? Persuasive.

Kim's pictures...? Pervasive.

And everyone understands Jim.