...And Another Thing...: A Poisson Of Interest --Elon Muskellunge

 

...And Another Thing...: The Mophabet, An Illustrated ABC

(images and texts to come; a work in progress) 

moa   Moab   moan   moat

mob

mocha

modus operandi

moe

Mofango

mogul

mohair

moisturizer

mojo hand

moko

molasses

momentum

Monday

moonshine   Moog

mop

MOQ

moron

Mostel

Mothra

mousse

moving violation

Mowgli

moxie

Moyses

Mozart   mozzarella

...And Another Thing...: On The Contrary

     Lit's not only long;
     it's almost always wrong.

 
April's not the cru'lest month.
(That's gotta be December.)
The quality of mercy's very strain'd, 

if you'll remember.
"To be or not to be...?" 
That's not the question, folks have found,
while I believe that ev'ry man's an island,
pound for pound.

Despite your smiles, I don't have miles to go 

before I sleep.

And a thing of beauty's not a joy forever --

read 'n' weep!

Nor is hope a thing with feathers.

Let me summarize my theme:
No: the world's not too much with us.

Yes: life is an empty dream.

...And Another Thing...: Seven Miniature Four-Panel (3 3/8" By 8" Reducing In Three Folds To 3 3/8" By 2") Faux Exquisite Corpses And Their Respective Sets Of Rhyming Lines With Texts Derived From Puns Based On Homonyms To The Vocable 'Ex/Quis/It(e)/Corpse'

Faux Exquisite Corpse #1: 
Hex/Wiz/Seat/Corpse

Hex: 

Bright Pennsy-Dutch décor. 
Wiz: 

Oz oligarch of yore.
Seat: 

So soft when butts be sore.
Corpse: 

One damn cadaver.

 

Faux Exquisite Corpse #2: 

Hecht's/Whiz/It/Corpse 

Hecht's: 

Defunct department store.
Whiz: 

That ersatz cheese you pour.
It: 

Part Bow,* part Addams lore.**
Corpse: 

Yes, ma'am: cadaver.
     *Clara, the It Girl  
     **The Addams's cousin It.

 

Faux Exquisite Corpse #3: 

Egg/Squeeze/"Sit!"/ Corpse

Egg: 

What comes before the chick. 
Squeeze: 

Sly baseball bunter's trick.
"Sit!": 

Command to Spot or Vic.
Corpse: 

Grand-slam: cadaver.

 

Faux Exquisite Corpse #4: 

Aix/Quiz/Zit/Corpse

Aix: 

The Great Chas* knew it best.
Quiz: 

A small exam; a test.
Zit: 

No adolescent jest.
Corpse: 

press'd ham: cadaver.  
     *I.e., Charlemagne with reference to his palace  

complex at Aachen.

 

Faux Exquisite Corpse #5: 

Haig's/Swiss/Hit/Corpse 

Haig's:

"This stuff belongs to Al."
Swiss: 

Not unlike Emmental.
Hit: 

(But who would shoot a pal...?)
Corpse: 

Lost lamb: cadaver.

Faux Exquisite Corpse #6: 

Aches/Oui!/Sid/Corpse

 
Aches: 

First fruits of one's malaise.
Oui!: 

Like 'si!' but en Francaise. 
Sid: 

From TV's Golden Days.*
Corpse: 

V'et (Nam) cadaver. 
     *Caesar (the comic 

not the emperor)

 

Faux Exquisite Corpse #7: 

X/Wheeze/Zed/Corpse

 
X: 

Abu Kamil's* unknown.
Wheeze: 

How labor'd breathing's shown. 
Zed: 

Initializes 'zone.'
Corpse: 

Go! Scram, cadaver!  
     *A medieval Arabic algebr'ist

...And Another Thing...: Redundant Duchamp, A Dada Do-Over

Astaire Upending 
A Suitcase No. 3.1416 

...And Another Thing...: Greenland Screams

It's not easy bein' Greenland:
ev'ry nation wants a piece --
there's the USA, the UK, China, Russia...

even Greece.

   Yet it's freezey bein' Greenland,

under Greenland's snow 'n' ice. 

When our temp's below thirteen or so, 

it isn't all that nice.

   It's not easy bein' Greenland,

so strategically hot,

Drumpft insists we host his missiles.

(Don't dare tell him Greenland's not:

   Mr. D'll be seizein' Greenland 

as a 52nd state.*

"I'll tote ev'ry vote in Nuuk**

when I run in '28.") 

 

     *Having earlier annexed Canada as a 51st.

     **Pronounced in two syllables: Noo-wook.

...And Another Thing...: The Bartholomewseum Of Art

 (images to come; a work in progress)

...And Another Thing...: Prosopogostichs For Vance

How unpleasant to know Mr. Vance,

Orange Jesus's recent VP!

Did you vote for VPOTUS, by chance...?

A despicable pick, seems to me.

Were it me put J. D. in this trance...?

Why so quick to Drumpft's shtick bend the knee...?

It's my thought that we ought, to Herr Vance, 

bid adieu...or would you disagree...? 

...And Another Thing...: Prosopogostichs For Drumpft

How unpleasant to know Mr. Drumpft,
who harangues hangers-on: "Call me 'Sire'"!

Lately grown most displeasingly plumpft, 

Drumpft's well known 'round the world as Herr Liar.

Home from home, on the course or the stumpft, 

where Herr's hair is routinely on fire. 

My fond hope for blonde mope Mr. Drumpft:

"You should -- painfully, swiftly -- expire"! 

...And Another Thing...: Wordgame Day In The Oval -- Bannon v Drumpft

When Drumpft deploys a word,

Steve Bannon tends to say

the first word traipsing thru his brain,

whatever 'tis, okay...?"

(Such games psychotics play.)

Say, Drumpft pronounces, 'Musk'!

Then Bannon answers "'-rat'!

Are muskrats not small rodents, 

ones that stink...like Hunter's scat...?

Aren't muskrats where it's at...?"

If Drumpft re-mutters, 'Musk'!,

this time Steve answers, "'-eeto'!

Muskeetoes sneak up from behind

to bite your samalito.

Best travel incognito." 

Again Drumpft whispers, 'Musk'! 

but Bannon shouts, "'-atel'! 

Let's dine! I'm fine with 'wino wine.' 

No blanc; no zinfandel."

(Fred, Jr., knew this well.)

Once more, Drumpft echoes "...'Musk'!

But Steve replies, "-ovite'! 

Such fool's gold's pann'd in Putinland.

With Vladimir you're tight.

To Vlad you pander, right...?" 

 

"It's 'Elon,' 'Elon,' 'Elon' 

I want to hear, you felon," 

screams Drumpft. "Just say, 

'E-e-lon-n-n,' okay...?" 

But Bannon's busy spellin':

"If 'm' I add (Sir, don't get mad),

it's '-melon' then I say. 

('Muskmelonhead'!" 

is what Steve said. 

Steve hopes Musk lopes away.)

...And Another Thing...: The Fourth Wise MA(GA)n

When MAGAns stare at Donald's hair, 
on ev'ry MAGAn sleeve
a heart gung ho is worn; we know
they choose to see-no-weave. 

When MAG's take stock of Donald's shock, 

their choice is to believe 

of Donald's thatch Don's ol' line. Natch,

each MAGAn hears-no-weave.

When MAGAns talk, they never balk;

to policy they cleave

as they explain, "'Tis real, Drumpf's mane."

(True MAGAns speak-no-weave.)

And, though it's weird, there's now appear'd

some MAGA nuts named Steve.*

who, though Herr Liar's hair's on fire, 

insist they smell-no-weave. 

     *Bannon...? Miller...? Scalise...? 

The verse isn't specific.