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.