It's a real risk of pain, this
accidental plagiarism of
another's typos or typoes
right along with the good
stuff, which you'd fain pose
as original work. Your own. Bad,
bad.
Yet not the worst!
The real "ones" you
have to watch out for is
the neologists. Neologers. No,
not "neologers." You know the
kind: nonce word coiners come
bounding in, booming hard shots
of iced dew from the bottom of their
heart, slingshot right straight up ricochet
off the inner top of their skull, skip-drop
to springboard off the tip of the tongue
BWONG--all well and good, so far!
Until then, some completely FAKE WORD
is spun twirling between you into conversation's
limpid-lucid pool? To contaminate with fakenesses!
With fakericity of word, or words? Soon you're doing
it.
Some choice
word
from that murky,
murked, bemurking so
-called "pool" of shallowness
and huge, peaty clumps of understanding
where lillies used to pad, stalk and bloom. Egads!
Copy that?
You're liable to end up EXPOSED in the brief
meetings to follow, spouting "But 'twasn't I! 'Twas
some irreverent neologizin' fool of voul, file, classless,
tasteless stain or strain!!"
Not to worry!
I'm a neologian.
I don't ever muck it or muff
about that lame sort of duhish
um.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Monday, June 17, 2024
De assurances
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