The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts
| POTW #737 |
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The question I asked my wife this morning was, "What would you think the word 'jute' meant, if you didn't already know what it meant?" She decided it was a verb, as in, "I'm going to jute these potatoes." My own feeling was that it was a job, like key grip or secret shopper. I was working as a jute at the lumber mill.... Inevitably, there became a poem, founded on the idea that lots of words sound like they ought to mean something different, especially if they are in new context and/or you didn't know what they were supposed to mean to begin with. I'd supply a list of definitions for the more obscure ones, except that it wouldn't do you any good.
The Expectorant JuteA mendicant formicary firm
The secretist was a dactyl girl
As gibbous as a cubit boy
He was digastric, eugenically jitney
It seemed as though the alluvial pair |
Copyright © 2010 by Dave Grossman
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