How to trip gracefully
How to fall over backwards.
How to slide away sideways.
How to give up.
How to throw up.
How to throw it all up.
No through way.
No exit.
No entrance
No entrancement.
No magic.
No spells.
No miracles.
No ghosts permitted unless smoking.
Kindly turn off at the tip when leaving.
No drips for the impatient.
No spitting.
No spite allowed.
No splitting.
No bleeding on the rug.
No oozing.
No dying except by prior arrangement.
Ask God.
He knows it all.
The fall.
I do not like this word onomastics.
Just like I don’t drink tea from plastic
But brandy or gin,
Just pour it straight in,
As my stomach is very elastic.
To be perfectly frank I don’t drink,
As after one glass I turn pink.
Then men want a kiss
Which for them may be bliss.
Until I drench them all o’er with black ink.
Gin makes me lose my inhibitions.
Which leads later to my act of contrition.
To avoid the occasion
Of sin when we’re able
Is a doctrine I espouse sans derision.
Yes,I do know yet non comprendio,
A few words of Latin and so
I toss nunquam in
When there is a great din.
Excusez moi,I have to go.
Yes, up to the bathroom I fled
For I had an odd pain in my head.
I poured some hot tea
All over me.
Now I have arisen from the dead.
I hope that I do not blaspheme
When I free associate well in these dreams.
I am as innocent as a lamb
Which is not what I am.
But who knows what I might have been?
Onomastics,I’ll say it again.
It’s a word far more suited to men.
As they like to sound grand
When they tickle me with one hand.
I can guess what they might like right then.
As a student of onomastics, Gloria liked to keep track of the most popular baby names across generations.
“Leaving that aside, the name Fatima is also used by Catholics, who take it from the town where the Virgin Mary was reported to have appeared in 1917 (itself, in one of those byways of onomastics, named after a princess who bore the name of Mohammed’s daughter).” — Dot Wordsworth, The Spectator (London), 9 May 2015
How my heart sings 