OK. I apologise for being British and for "affecting" a three-syllabled jaguar. I apologise for my predecessors' unholy influence on a good American poet who would otherwise have pronounced his big cat more economically.
Oh, Aaron. You set everybody at each others' throats again but you did ask about the word in relation to a poem, which has now been subsumed in the inevitable transatlantic get-attery. Did you find your answer? Do you agree that it (the poem) will have no truck with a two-syllabled cat? Or are you just grinning at the way we all fall for this every time?
I am. Grinning, that is.
Now I shall return to my own Painted Jaguar on the banks of the turbid Amazon and leave you to season your dinner with unaspirated herbs. So that is all right, Best Beloved. Do you see?
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