In Vienna, this expat anapest
Was taunted as differently stressed.
“I can’t do the waltz?!
I’m sure that is false!
Try rescanning my feet on request?”
—Cailín na Luimní
A lex’cographer who’d bought a cockatoo
Said, “I’ve many crude words in my locker, too;
But the things I have heard
From that dissolute bird
Have managed to give me a shock or two.”
—P. Ublekkdeaux Meign
Erat Romanorum dictator
Qui hated his uxoris mater;
Cum leo her edit,
A holler he dedit,
Et dixit, “Vale, ma, until later.”
—Anonymous, the Classicist Code Switcher
There once was a student of Cree
Who left on an Algonquian spree.
She split Manitoba
Late in October
And wintered among Naskapi.
The Old Phonetician of Stroud
Has a voice that’s awfully loud,
So when he does speak
His syllables peak
At twice the max volume allowed.
There once was a bored phonetician
Who pondered a widespread lenition,
He weakened his source
Till he sounded quite hoarse,
And upset his wife’s disposition.