Philologer’s Kvetchwhinge 32
by Athanasious Schadenpoodle
Eldsprung, earthbound utterance—grown, articulate, rich, particulate—
did frolic, prolix, fore and aft. Now lie, not various (nevermore to harry us),
stand patterned, matter’d, flat, and staid:
Still.
From entities, an identity—if one entangled, sore, a-frayed—
of our inquisitions, adpositions be blended, blanded, blunted:
Made.
O Socio, Socio! Wherefore art thou Socio?
by Thomas Basil Callan Bernstein-Hodson
All alone on the fourth floor,
Unsure I can take much more.
My sense of self come undone—
Aware of my many tongues.
I observe my sociolect—
paradoxic’ly hypercorrect—
As I switch the spoken code
to trendy words, à la mode.
Reading these works of Labov’s—
tossing mental molotovs—
Mindful of my polyglossia,
I am at an utter lossia.
