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Sesquipedalian (With Apologies To Ogden Nash)
My poems are somewhat, in fact quite a lot, not to put too fine a point on it, just a bit or, notwithstanding everything else I will say, a great deal sesquipedalian;
They are packed full, to wit, of long-winded words that don’t fit and ululating complicated and multi-syllabic, incomprehensible terms that feel almost alien.
I’m not sure if, for cash, that flash, brash Ogden Nash hasn’t had the notion of creating this version; if not, then he should have done
Or whether, if other bards in that scene had thought really hard of a means of fitting “sesquipedalian” in, they would have done.
But these trite tongue-twisters titillate the tonsils and test the talker
And I like lines that don’t quite rhyme, even though they ought to.
My odes ramble on as I try to make simile and metaphor fit.
I think it’s fine fun and that they just sound better for it.
But some of that ilk try to milk your emotions
With a totally misplaced unfounded notion
You should cram every short sentence;
Mine just go on and lengthen.
It’s not my fault that I chose
To be quite over-verbose.
Don’t have it in for me:
I’m seeking sympathy.
I’d love to be laconic,
But it’s just chronic.
Eschewing levity.
Going for brevity.
I really do lust
To be brusque.
I ought to
Be shorter
I’m sure I
Could try
Terse
Verse:
True,
Too.
By?
I?
But my poems are somewhat, in fact quite a lot, not to put too fine a point on it, just a bit
or, notwithstanding everything else I have said, a great deal (but I’m sure you won’t mind as I’ve reached the next line, which is where I should stop and let the matter drop) outstandingly boringly, snoringly sesquipedalian.
poem
by
C. Richard Miles
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