Obscure words lifted from @Haggard Hawks
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Take the Greek word for running,
drumos, and we are off to the races.
The hippodrome is for horses, of course,
not for hippos, those ill-tempered water horses.
Imagine dromedary camels or dromedary dates
racing a mirage of lost palindromes in the desert.
A man, a plan, a canal, Suez.
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Wielding my pen like a ski pole,
I am torn asunder by a pain in my shoulder,
My shoulder sundered, separated, an old wound,
a bad spill on the last run of the last day of the ski year.
Don’t worry, a torn rotator cuff and a separated shoulder
are enough to keep a firm grip on my imagination.
Quiver, to tremble,
the fletched arrows of misfortune
in the quiver sought the essence of flight.
From cwifer, to quaver. Stop your havering,
I need a sneeter, or a snooze by any other name,
From cwifer, to quaver. Stop your havering,
he said in Lowland Scots.
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Why the silent b in thumb,
from Old English, þūma,
added in one’s middle ages
to eye-rhyme with dumb.
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Some think I am multiscious. True, that.
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I need a sneeter, or a snooze by any other name,
my eyes are at half-mast, my chin on my chest,
I write somnambulant words and dream of going nowhere.
4/2/22 NaPoWriMo
See TO A BULLFINCH
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