The Awesome Blog Content Award, Courtesy of HRH ‘Nessa of the Stronghold, requires that I provide you with an entire alphabet of Me-itude in response, so in order to prevent your eyes from snapping back in your head like the cylinders in a slot machine and your brain going into hibernation, I have subdivided the alphabet into three parts. I will reiterate only the award rules–to get the rest of my response to it you should head back to Episode 1–and share the second series of letters in today’s post.
Rascal, riffraff or rapscallion, I’m not such a naughty Nell,
but I am enough subversive that I think the faintest smell
of a smokescreen is escaping with me on my escapades;
hope nobody’s looking closely ’til I up and close the shades.
Smithereens and splinters and microscopic mites
are all that’s left of language when I’ve mangled it in verse
and twisted it and tangled it and murdered it; by rights,
I should be stopped from writing, for it’s only getting worse.
Tangential thinking takes my mind
and leaves my plots and plans behind
to visit wildly different fields
and see what each new tangent yields.
Uxoriated by my man I be, if any woman can,
but never fear, I shan’t abuse by whipping him whom I did choose
as much as he chose me, for I would fain have no one else nearby,
since his uxorious love for me remains a perfect mystery.
Volare Wagon, with your fine faux-paneled sides,
the way your heavy-duty shocks put such smooth-gaited glides
on my great cache of tools; how virile your slant six
that took me where no other car could do such tricks!
Why, O Why? The question best to ask
no matter what the moment or the task,
for none can learn the magicks life brings by
more quickly than the man who questions Why.
Xeriscape my garden–that’s the mandate I have got
for making up the most of every inch of my small plot
in weather short of water and in heat too high for hope
except if I can make dry art upon my garden’s slope.
Yikes! is such a handy shout
when trial and trouble are about,
when great surprise occurs–and when
I’m overjoyed, now and again!
Zymurgy–musical, this word,
whose other music we have heard
when from the tap a creamy head
yields cheers for joys from A to Zed.
The End. You’ve survived, my friends! Hope I haven’t worn out my welcome in home, laptop and email inbox, but I trust you all know where the Delete button is by now. Forthwith, Back to Our Scheduled Programming. Whatever that is! Tomorrow will tell.