There once was a clause existential
Whose positioning appeared quite prudential—
Until it was found
Simply to fill in a round
Of rhymes, as it was self-referential.
—Mannfrum van Tuckett
There once was a bright chap named Norbert
Confused by a fall out of orbit,
His movement and chains
Got tangled in frames
And less was the more-er for it.
—Virginia Bouchard
A stop is a curious sound,
A silence with noises around:
With upraisèd velum
One’s nostrils to seal ’em,
And closure released in a bound.
—Pumptilian Perniquity
There once was a prosody nerd
Who timed ev’rything that she heard
But she had chronic hiccups
Resulting in slip ups
So her findings were often quite blurred.
—Cailín na Luimní
Your speeching’s very disturbed.
Your grammaring’s also perturbed.
Your voweling’s are bahcked.
Your modaling is stahcked.
And your nounings might could get verbed.
—Chaz Tushka
A fellow named Ivan Ketchinski,
Who lived in Marhatshevsdoibinski,
Said, “My name, I admit,
Is a sneeze and a spit,
But at least it’s not Sktschernaskcholvinski.”
—P. Ublekkdeaux Meign
