Since Roger's imitation of the Sylvie and Bruno poem went over well, I feel better about posting my own additions to the Carroll paradigm (written about a year ago for a contest on the Gaz, and never posted at Erato before).
Due to the death of a dear relative, I can't otherwise concentrate on the discussion at the moment; but my departed aunt liked this poem very much, so this is for her.
He thought he saw a brigantine
kowtowing to a swell:
he looked again and found it was
a runny Neuchatel.
"But this is what I need," he said,
"I've still some Zinfandel."
He thought he saw a coat-of-arms
perform a pas de deux:
he looked again and found it was
a rutting caribou.
"I didn't join the dance," he said,
"as I don't know kung fu."
He thought he saw Queen Guinevere
sauteeing escargots:
he looked again and found it was
a game of tic-tac-toe.
"Embarrassed as I was," he said,
I blew the row of O."
He thought he saw a Zapotec
conducting a quartet:
he looked again and found it was
a videocassette.
"I have no VCR," he said,
"There's no electric yet."
He thought he saw a frankfurter
delivering a wall:
he looked again and found it was
his phenobarbital.
"There's no AA just yet," he said,
but screw the alcohol."
Terese
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