nipplemore: a tragic poem

by danalavender

Once upon an autumn morning, as the wind blew signs forewarning,
Galavanting, through trodden path, cobblestone and frat booze, I,
And my Roommate, walking stedfast, on our way to Grundle Breakfast,
Stopped to gaze at awing landscape, verdant mountains, mist awry.

Suddenly, a breeze, bit chilly, with some wisps acting quite frilly,
Gently passed along my skin, granting strength to share thoughts priv’ly!
And as my bones rattled and shaked, Catamounts, awaked and baked,
Passed me by as I proclaimed: “OOH! I say! It feels quite nippley!”

My roommate stared with mouth ajar, while ravens’ gasps were heard afar,
Dew, from miles out, drew in, as our surroundings turned to guck.
Quizzical!: the look they stared with, and malicious: tone they talked with:
“Dana, all my brain can muster is this simple phrase: The fuck???”

So I reply: “The fuck to you!? What is the tone you use, quite rude!
The air is cold, the wind chilly, nip-ple-y’s the word I seek!”
They blink, expression quite baffled, and laughed with malice affable,
Cheeks of mine turned rosy as my disp’sition turned meek

Green decayed to yellow ashes, as my words left me abashed!
Vexed, perplexed, expressed my face, methought I not was so dippy!
Later I ran to friends aloft, and when I told this tale, they scoffed!
Laughing with a taunting tone, asked giggly:“Do you mean nippy?”

How this remark sent me aback, toward a man I might attack,
His conspiratory actions set in motion long ago!
Awful loom of fate eternal!, Birthed this word from tongue infernal,
That the first utterance of “nipply,” my daddy made it so!

Cursed be my father’s wrath! Who sent me down this wretched path!
For this, alone is he titled my profane adversary!
Lord, why maketh me a major not of Eng’lish but Math!
Prithee excuse, for I am not a walking dictionary!

Now I stand in solitary, ostracized involuntar’ly,
How I am a loner in this frigid universe!—
Once, your average gay at least, Transformed into horrific beast!
Cast your gaze, for I am cursed! My sins confessed in puny verse!

Daily I must read’ for battle, Fighting ‘gainst my speech quite addled,
Like an Allied soldier on her last leg in Gallipoli,
Or climbing mountain Nepali, Or list’ning to Buddy Holly!
All for my stupendous err: hubristically said“nipple-y!”

So, I am stuck within a pickle, like a freshman in a triple,
Forced to act a fool and frivol, not earning a single nickel,
From these jumbled, humbled riddles, now I am a woman idle,
My mouth is shut, I am a bore,
For now I speak, nipple-more. g


Categories: creatif, dana lavender, october 25

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