Poem Challenge II

Some jolly nonsense on a fine fall afternoon.


I left my gazebo
for downtown Toledo;
the sun having set,
the moon pale as a moth
Old King Nectanebo
once saw its albedo
through birdcatchers’ net
raised by signals from Thoth
(about which the reader
may read, if he’s eager
in Schwaller de Lubitsch,
The Temple of Man).
Carl Larsson was Sweder
but Edvard was Grieger,
while Rubik was cubish.
(One does what one can.)

If zebras were ponies
and beggars wore posies
then moonlight would shimmer
o’er seagirt Nahant.
while literate phonies
(Illusion des Sosies!)
by Doppeln gang immer
(in English I can’t
make good on the stanza
with rhymes that are valid)
on strands that are sandy
(I think that will square)
as in a romanza
in earthshine that’s pallid.
Gazebos are handy
at such times.   So there.

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