As I have mentioned previously in this space, I am given to certain language eccentricities which compel me to utter nonsense words and phrases or to join actual words in unlikely or rhyming combinations. I mention this only to give some context to the previous post (8/6/03), immediately below.

Moolish Hoots, contours and Shiggy the Blip are just the kinds of things you would be likely to hear if you lived with me. Lucky you.

Actually, I no longer give voice to that last turn, Shiggy the Blip. Sarah asked me quite some time ago to cease my mutterings of those three words. They jangled her nerves. As I wish to be more a balm than a bomb to my Sarah I have been true to her request and refrained from speaking Shiggy the Blip in her presence. The words have hardly left my mind, though, in many months even for lack of utterance.

Sarah believes that these Tourettic traits might inform or even underlie my experiments with poetry.

Could be and probably, in fact, is. But where is the poetry in Moolish Hoots. . . Shiggy the Blip?