DRT

DON'T READ THIS!

Dance Steps From Memes PC&S

In the night of the heat
where you live on the street
you advance then retreat
as you follow the fleet
never skipping a beat
(lather, rinse 'n' repeat)
of this suite of these sweet 
sixteen metrical feet.

You're one dancin' machine,

so begin your Beguine

at the Stage Door Canteen

where it's hard bein' green

(can't you see what I mean...?)

if you know where you've been.

(Has there e'er made the scene 

any sweeter sixteen...?)

Some folks feel it's defeatist

and not the upbeatest

to ask whose feet's fleetest

between each elitist.

Mine aren't the petitest. 

albeit the neatest...

(This list's the completest:

so which sixteen's sweetest...?)

Old Guy Rhymin': Prelude, Poesy & Precis

     Prelude 

     "Take care of the pence; the pounds will take care of themselves."

          -- William Lowndes, British Secretary of the Treasury, 1696-1724

     "Take care of the sense; the sounds will take care of themselves."

          -- Lewis Carroll's Dutchess to Alice in Through the Looking Glass

     "Take care of the tents; the towns will take care of themselves."

          -- Persian polymath, poet and purported pavilion producer 

             Omar Khayyam

     "Take care of the hence; the hounds will take care of themselves.”

          -- A. C. Swinburne, who writes, “When the Hounds of Spring... “

      "Take care of the bents; the bounds will take care of themselves."

           -- tbd

     "Take care of the drench; the drown'ds will take care of themselves"

          -- Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who in his "The Rime of the Ancient 

             Mariner" writes, "...And all the boards did shrink." 

     Poesy 

Appalling chords did plink...? 

Our Steinway sounded out of tune.

Who'd haul ass towards the brink...? 

Louise 'n' Thelma shoot the moon.

     King Saul wields swords of zinc...? 

Them Philistines be in a fix.

Post gall, I pour'd in ink...? 

My Colorverse/digestive mix.

     A stall at Ford's, d'ya think...? 

So, where will Honest Abe get shot...?

Why're y'all green gourds dyed pink...? 

'Cuz green's too cool while pink is hot.

     That moll affords a wink...? 

The gangster's girlfriend's mighty fine. 

"And all the hordes did stink...?" 

Indeed, a glitch in rhyme saves line.

     Précis

-pall- chords plink, haul towards brink;

Saul swords zinc, gall pour'd ink.

Stall Ford's think, y'all gourds pink;

moll -fords wink, all hordes stink!

"Ill"ustrations in Iambics

My father's Uncle Titus 

has osteoarthritis.
The triplets -- Keir, Ken, Korey:

Doc's verdict...? "H. Pylori."

     My mother's Aunt Louise 

caught Legionnaire's disease.
With next-door neighbor Sidney, 

it's cancer of the kidney.
     My sister's in a coma 

with multiple myeloma.
A distant cousin -- Cyrus --  

contracted West Nile Virus.
     Some rabid rats gave rabies 

to Biddy and her babies.
And, though I feel like hell, 

I'm he who they call 'well.'

Caption ISO Image: Purchase Price of Indian Bread or Complete Absurdity

 PuriNaan¢¢¢ 

Portrait of Artist as Blind Seer

"Forever Jung" Infinity Bracelet

 

Xmas gift from JB
(one size, of course, fits all)

Alpha Betes: a Disordered ABC of Supreme Beasties Claiming Superiority

     Original Alpha Betes (from AmalgaMates by Ulysses Poe) 

The Apogeeraffe, the Boffolo, the Chargé d'aFerret, the Deep Seal,

the Emperorang, the First Plaice, the Genuinocerous, the Higheenah,

the Inside Trackoon, the Jupitern, the Keytiwake, the Lezzruff-Tew Weevils

the Magnacum Louse, the Notbadger, the Optimuskrat, the Parve Gnu, 

the Qualiteal, the Reagle, the Staytodee Hart, the Topadee Lion, the Übear

the VIPeacock, the Wowl, the Xanadugong, the Yakohinoor and the Zebravo

     New Alpha Betes 

     One: The EgotisTick

The EgotisTick, to be chosen top pick,

pushes lunatic schtick. (His routines make me sick.)

     Two: The Notoriole

Notoriole's smarm...? Her attempts to disarm

all who'd cause undue harm to the City of Charm.

     Three: The UpperCrustacean 

The Upper Crustacean plies troth to a Haitian

who, choosing migration, flees Drumpf's "shithole nation."

     Four: The Well-EduKatydid 

The Well-EduKatydid, pregnant (tho' keepin' hid),

travels far off the grid, has her kid, names 'im Sid.

     Five: The Tsardine

Do Tsardines court friends who will go to all ends

to establish new trends...? That, or course, all depends...

     Six: The Maxolotl 

The young Maxolotl sips pop from a bottle.

Adult Maxoes waddle. (Some won't. Still, a lot'll.)

     Seven: The StrawMandrill

The Straw Mandrill stars in B movies where czars

manage wine bars on Mars. (No: no Oscars. Yes: scars.) 

     Eight: The Acmeerkat 

The Acmeerkat clan...? Erect -- to a man.
Their gals also can -- phase two of The Plan.

     Nine: The Biguana

The beastie we call the Biguana is small.

He's more pint-size than tall. (It's the name's 'big' is all.)

     Ten: The Best-in-Shoat

The Best-in-Shoat's haut: she sports (and I quote)

"a Porky-pink coat." But that's all she wrote.

     Eleven: The Camelflage

The Camelflage hide appears multichrome-dyed.

Her inside's likewise pied. (Those insisting not lied.)

     Twelve: The Dynamoray

The Dynamoray can't but have the last say,

adding, "Do it my way: you'll keep troubles at bay."

     Thirteen: The Ritzetze

In Ritzetze's maws lie a pair of great jaws

where grin teeth much like saws. (Did I mention the claws...?)

     Fourteen: The GentEel

With no white tie or topper, GentEel comes a cropper. 

But with 'em, he's proper -- a real traffic-stopper. 

      Fifteen: The Efferpheasant

The Efferpheasant ain't no peasant.

He, when present, makes life pleasant. 

     Sixteen: The SuperiOrca

"The SuperiOrca inhabits Minorca

and oozes kavorka." -- F. Garcia Lorca 

     

     Seventeen: The Cream-o'-the Crappie

Why's his tongue floppy, its diction so sloppy...?

'Cuz Cream-'o-the Crappie smokes opium poppy.

          (a work in progress)

     Eighteen: The GlitteRat 

     The Kangaruler 

     The ExcellAnt

     The Fabulouse 

     The Flagrant Fowl

     The Gazellionaire

     The GigAnteater 

     

     The Grandrewsarchus

     The GardenWallaby 

     The High-'n'-Mite

     The Infamouse

     The MaCrow

     The MamMoth

     The Masscivet

     The AristoCat

     The PrinciPalomino

     The SizeaBull 

DOJ Spinometer for "Select-Yer-Sentence" Board Game

     As of today it appears likely that Citizen Drumpf will be indicted for one or 

more of a whole host of crimes. Furthermore, based on the Everests of evidence 

gathered and presented by the January 6th Select Committee, it's difficult to 

imagine any scenario in which the former PotUs could be found innocent. 

     Therefore, once the all-but-inevitable guilty verdict is handed down, and in 

light of the fact that The Donald has so often selected his own judges and his 

own facts, surely it would be only fair to afford Herr Hair the opportunity to select 

his own sentence. When sentencing day arrives, then, Don Wan will be presented by the DOJ with a Spinometer similar to the one pictured below. The ex-president 

will be encouraged to twirl the Mashie-Niblick Spinner and discover his fate. (If 

he has been determined to have been at all cooperative, perhaps a best two out 

of three spins will be allowed.)

     If the Spinometer points to Adolf, Drumpf will be shot in the head and his body

burned. The ceremonial gun used will be one provided by Marjorie Taylor Greene, 

drawn from the armory featured in several of her campaign videos. If Benito is 

selected, Drumpf will be hung upside-down (ideally-- as was Il Duce, with one or several of his mistresses alongside). In place of the traditional noose, one of The Donald's lengthy MAGA-red neckties will serve. 

     If Uncle Joe comes up, Daffy Donald will breathe his last lying in a pool of his 

own urine. To insure sufficient volumes of fluid are forthcoming, the disgraced ex-

president will be force fed from a dozen or so two-liter bottles of Diet Cola prior 

to execution. And if the Drumpf spinner lands on Idi, Donald will finish his days in 

exile in Saudi Arabia playing a minimum of 36 holes per day -- on a course consisting entirely of sand traps. 

Flummoxing Day: an Etymological Dialogue 'Twixt Ed and Amahl on the 26th of December

     Ed's observations appear in this > > > typeface. 

Amahl's look like this < < < . 

"I've got no clue. I'm flummox'd! You...?"

"With flum I'm, too, replete." 
"Why's Boxing Day so named that way...?"
"I'm flummox'd, I repeat."

"To blunt that flum, let's hunt for some..."

"What . . . ? " "...lexical approach

which, once deploy'd, will void this void."

"Which modus do you broach . . . ?"

"At school..." "Heart-Knox . . .?" "...'twas cool to box..."

". . . unorthodox albeit." 

"Back thar' we'd seek to spar all week..."

"Did sadists swarm to see it . . . ?" 

"Sure!" "No way , fool ! The season's Yule :

Weren't boxing duels verboten . . . ?"

"They toxic were. But boxes...?" " 'Twere

poor's alms . . ." "...read:'balms'!" ". . . they're totin' .

"Their beds they've made." "Still, they need aid,

and boxes carry care, 

bein' fill'd with gifts." "...and gifting lifts

poor spirits..." ". . . everywhere!" 

     (a work in progress)

Merry Xmas from Merryland

     A shivering Judy and Jim channel Durante to sing: 

"Didja ever get the feelin' that ya want it to snow

but still have the feelin' that ya wish'd it were May...?"