"These fopdoodles don’t know diddly-squat."
These fopdoodles don’t know diddly-squat.
Their cattywampus minds can’t distinguish
dipthongs from dongles, doohickeys from fartleks.
They confuse the mythical with the actual,
mistaking the Washington snallygaster
for snollygosters sitting on their fence.
A two-letter switch defines their ignorance.
On weekends you’ll find them at shivoos
where they’ll divagate about the demise
of jackalopes and kerfuffle about
gobbledegook. Where one word would do,
they add hundreds more and multiply
syllables. These humblebrags conversate
like klazomaniacs – a spot-on clue
to their snarky brainlessness. A heads-up:
they can’t define any word within these lines
so decode as you like. Purse-proud stampcrabs
will whiffle-whaff about your intelligence.
Carolyn Martin’s poems and book reviews have appeared in publications throughout North America, Australia and the UK. Her fourth collection, A Penchant for Masquerades, was released in 2019 by Unsolicited Press. She is currently the poetry editor of Kosmos Quarterly: journal for global transformation. Find out more about Carolyn at www.carolynmartinpoet.com.
Trina Weaver has been a working Solo RV Nomad for over three years. She enjoys experiencing life in different parts of the US with her two cats.