What Comes of Reading Lewis Carroll

Doth the whippersnapper snap the whip

or does the snapperwhipper whip the snap?

Watch your tongues, the silghtest slip

might land you deep inside a trap.

A gong of teal, a steel-made tong

has made us all a little strange

The days grow short, the nights grow long

would you kindly fetch some sage?

Twisted runs the poet’s mouth

and quickly do all things go south

Out of the drugged sleep, be roused

you worthless, horrid, dirty louse.


See, this was written entirely without purpose, structure, or meaning. At least Carroll left room for interpretation. I’m quite proud of the meter in this poem (which I wrote almost entirely on autopilot) and the rhyme, which I did not ONCE refer to a rhyming dictionary for.

This post begins a series of posts categorized under “nonsense.”



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