Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

The egg crack’d from side to side

November 21, 2025


(#1) Alfred Tennyson,”The Lady of Shalott” (1832)

A Joe Dator cartoon in the latest (11/24/25) print issue of the New Yorker poses the question, “What if Humpty Dumpty had survived his fall?”

Humpty Dumpty is an egg. An egg contains a developing chicken embryo. The embryo will eventually mature, crack through the egg, and emerge as a chick. (There is even theme music for this scenario, Mussorgsky’s “Ballad of the Unhatched Chicks / the Chicks in their Shells”, from “Pictures at an Exhibition”.)

JD shows the first moment of emergence, the chick’s head bursting through the chest of a dismayed Humpty Dumpty, who is toppling backwards in his chair — a scene that will be viscerally painful for modern audiences familiar with the 1979 movie Alien, with its famously grotesque Chestbuster scene, but will in any case evoke a fatal heart attack :


(#2) Humpty Dumpty and his female companion at table, when the mortal wound opens up; it will crack him from side to side

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poetite

November 2, 2025

Faced with this judgment on Facebook today about the Spelling Bee puzzle from the New York Times,


(#1) POETITE: not a word (in the Spelling Bee dictionary)

Dennis Baron owlishly protested with word play incorporating a pun on concrete:

It’s the stuff concrete poems are made from.

Well played, Dennis!

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Musical Millbrooks

October 13, 2025

The trigger was singing the shapenote hymn Millbrook, 484t in the 2025 edition — yes, the latest revision, successor to the 1991 revision —  of the Sacred Harp yesterday; I was at home, following along via Zoom with the Palo Alto singers (who were at the UUC church in southern Palo Alto). Four connections here:

— 1, the song comes from the 2013 Shenandoah Harmony book (where it’s 264b), which I’d sung from on occasion (so it was in fact already a favorite); I don’t know why it’s named Millbrook (from Millbrook AL? Millbrook Village NJ? from some specific millbrook?)

— 2, the song has the same name as the much more widely known utterly secular composition “Millbrook” (1998), by singer / songwriter Rufus Wainwright, referring to the very tony New York village of Millbrook — so, two musical Millbrooks

— 3, the village of Millbrook is the home of the Millbrook School, a private boarding school that’s interesting in its own right; and there’s a connection to Rufus Wainwright, who’s a 1991 graduate of the school

— 4, Bill Richardson — a friend from a boys’ summer camp (ca. 1950) / Princeton (ca. 1960) / Wyomissing PA (vs. my West Lawn PA, a couple miles away), now Golden CO vs. Palo Alto CA — is a much earlier graduate of the school (in 1958)

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The Pomeranian-nimbus

October 12, 2025

An Ellis Rosen cartoon that came by on Facebook recently:


(#1) The hybrid creature the pomeranian-nimbus, being taken for a walk, on a leash, by its owner — so being presented as an extraordinary dog, a cloud canine; note that the woman’s dog recognizes the p-n as a dog, and appears to want to play with it (see the wagging tail)

(The name of the dog breed is standardly capitalized, because it’s a proper name denoting a creature originating in the geographical region of Pomerania, and I’ll use Pomeranian from here on.)

The compound Pomeranian-nimbus is a copulative  N1 + N2 compound (like Swiss-American or hunter-gatherer), denoting a thing or things of both the N1 type and the N2 type.  But in fact the creature is not just a mix of Pomeranian dog and nimbus cloud, but is actually a nimbus Pomeranian ‘Pomeranian dog that is (also) a nimbus cloud’ (your standard N + N compound in English is semantically modifier + head) — rather than a Pomeranian nimbus ‘nimbus cloud that is also, or at least resembles, a Pomeranian dog’. A nimbus Pomeranian, or, more compactly, a nimbopomeranian, a nimpom for short.

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October’s song: amid rueful jesting, they slip into death

October 5, 2025

A comic poem and a cartoon for October.

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Bad history

July 20, 2025

A while back (7/10, to be exact), two Sacred Harp singers came by my house to pick up the printer’s plate for SH99 Gospel Trumpet in the edition we’ve been singing from for 34 years (a wonderful object that I was giving away to reduce my household belongings dramatically), and like the bright-eyed Mariner ensnaring the wedding guest trapped on his stone (who cannot choose but hear), I engaged them in an hour or so of animated chat, to relieve my loneliness, after which we sang three songs from that Sacred Harp.

In e-mail afterwards, thanking them for their friendship and forbearance, I asked them a strange question:

While you were with me, did you notice anything odd about one of my hands (my right hand, specifically)? Or about how I used my right arm?

One replied:

we both noticed several fingers were bent. I assumed this was from arthritis, so if there’s more of a story I don’t know it or I’ve forgotten.

I then told them a story that I was convinced I’d posted about, on Language Log or this blog, but apparently not, so now I’m now telling it to you too.

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A rose for Sharon

June 21, 2025

An occasional poem (in free verse) for my friend Sharon on her recent birthday, wrapped up in the calendar, the female body, and plants and their sexual symbolisms, with photos. The poem first, then remarks on its form, then a bit of background information.

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The raunchy verse of biblical manhood

June 17, 2025

(Consider the title; totally not for kids or the sexually modest)

Yesterday, on a closed group for lgbt+ folk and their friends:

— MP relayed a posting from Gloryview Ranch, “Embrace biblical Manhood”

— SC: Yeehaw! “Biblical manhood”. Wtf is that?

— EH > SC: Seems to have a lot to do with horses and bacon. Just like in the Bible, where Jesus broke bacon with his disciples.

— AZ > EH, breaking into raunchy verse, “The Cowboy’s Plea”:

Oh! Sweet buddy broke my bacon,
Made me sizzle with his fork;
I keep my bacon hot and greasy,
Pray he’ll give me more fresh pork!

I note that “The Cowboy’s Plea” contains no taboo / vulgar lexical items, but manages to be deeply raunchy by referring indirectly to sexual or excretory bodyparts and to sexual acts, all through the miracle of metaphor (some of it lexicalized, some of it fresh, but mostly — as with the nouns fork and pork ‘penis’ and the verbs fork and pork ‘fuck’ — skittering between the two).

The central metaphor, in break someone’s bacon ‘pop / bust someone’s cherry, break someone in sexually, have sex with someone who is a virgin’, is a fresh one; it achieves some degree of offensiveness through echoes of breaking Communion bread and the friendly sharing of meals. Meanwhile the central metaphor incorporates the freshly metaphorical bacon ‘fuckhole (vagina or anus)’, elaborated on in greasy, alluding to lubes as aids in fucking.

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The 5/26 New Yorker

May 24, 2025

The latest issue of the magazine has two cartoons I want to pick out for comment, one (by Mick Stevens) because it’s an addition to Arnoldia, the domain of things with the name Arnold; the other (by David Sipress) because it’s a pointed comment on this alarming and dangerous time in my country.

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J.R. Ross and his cowboy poetry

May 17, 2025

In memoriam John Robert Ross (May 7, 1938 to May 13, 2025). The news of Haj’s death came in my morning e-mail on Wednesday 5/14, right next to a Bizarro cartoon with a cowboy joke / restaurant joke, turning on an absurd pun on ranch dressing that Haj (who was a walking library of jokes) would have appreciated, and so with a synchronicity that Haj would have delighted in.

J.R. Ross was an outsized figure in linguistics, whose ideas (beginning with his 1967 MIT dissertation, Constraints on Variables in Syntax) altered the field. Haj Ross was a literally outsized person physically, a large, blocky man (he really did play football for Yale as an undergraduate) with a big presence. And Haj, no surname needed, had an outsized personality — endlessly imaginative, enormously funny, astonishingly empathetic and gentle, “big and sparkly” (me on Facebook), with “an amazing facility for the intricacies of English” (John Beavers on FB) and “an innocent sense of wonder about language, poetry, and the world” (Susan Fischer on FB). And resolutely counter-cultural (often barefooted, and rarely standing on ceremony), also attuned to all the Zen-inflected frequencies on your radio dial.

He was a good friend of mine, and an inspiration to me, from 1963 on. So this posting is hard to write. I will collect myself and pick out some facts, some assortment of outrageous anecdotes, a small selection of his poetry and artwork, and even (since, like Haj, I’m hopelessly a linguist) a note about a neglected feature of his work on syntax that I think is important in the intellectual history of the field. I will do all that in another posting, I hope tomorrow.

Today I’ll start the way Haj often started his public presentations. With a joke, that Bizarro cartoon (remember the cartoon?). From which a Google AI Overview search then led me, goofily, into a strange dusty canyon of verse, Jim Ross’s self-published Pull Up a Chair: Cowboy Poetry. Truly, Haj would have loved that.

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