Although a treasure trove of words,
Mr Honk only ever said a few
on any one occasion, as if preparing
for a quiet life in a discreet garret
or in a but and ben on the cliffs
were as important as avoiding the perceived
embarrassment of mentioning toasts
in Towcester.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Who do you call on a foggy morning
if you stumble upon a body: a coroner
or a stationer? But, while still puzzling,
Mr Honk’s swift entanglement in a ream
wouldn’t have posed such a dilemma
if only he’d decided whether he had
woken up next to a cold cadaver
or his oeuvre.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
A sesquipedalian collector by nature,
for the gallimaufry of days to come,
Mr Honk chose the simplest vocabulary,
consisting of only two petite words,
so he would always know what to say
at the end.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Me: There may be maybe in the sure
Google AI: The phrase “There may be maybe in the sure” is a grammatically incorrect and nonsensical statement. The words “may be” and “maybe” are distinct and have different grammatical functions. “May be” is a verb phrase, while “maybe” is an adverb. The sentence attempts to combine them in a way that does not make logical sense.
Me: 🤣 🤣 🤣
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
I live by the river yet never walk its banks.
Not that they’d miss me particularly—
after all, I would just be another pair of soles
trampling on their peace between the tides.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Why does the word ‘computer’
not have the noble ring of a ‘fountain pen’?
Even a ‘typewriter’ sounds better
than the name of the Difference Engine’s progeny,
though I could always say that I wrote this verse
on my PC (yuck!) or a desktop.
I wonder if the poet had the same problem
when quills had gone out of use.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Just what is it that makes today’s homes so different, so appealing?
To be honest, I don’t know how to answer that, but I liked that unexpected pop
from the first moment I set foot in the drizzle-drenched kingdom of politeness
and understatement (your own words). I figured I’d puzzle up a few words—
since the dough was still rising under the cloth—as I always do, but the arrivals
at Granite City’s airport have turned the sourdough bread into a rowie.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Have you ever asked yourself what would happen to a trifling quote
from the now obsolete phone book if, after years of practising being sullen
(while baking flatbread in residual heat, which is a different matter entirely),
he were accused of condescension simply because of a garrulous sentence
that he dared to ridicule? Perhaps he recalls the fourth mystic ape, the one
covering his crotch, but where’s the fun in that? Nothing beats casual trolling,
after all, in the temple of tadpole literature.
hidden pilcrow 