I was looking through my old writing materials, when I came across some poetry which I wrote many many years ago. I always thought this one was funny, so I'm posting it here. After reading, this though, I wonder whatever happened to my vocabulary skills??
Say Again?
A morpheme specialist has the ability to compose
voluninous pieces of work using capacious lexical terms
without sounding too elephantine to the reader.
He is able to avoid runty, Lilliputian idioms
that sound wee, and dwarfed and can burst forth
a potent swelling of the intellect onto pages of study.
His trichotillomania becomes nonexistant when he transcribes
his wits to others because he becomes hyperphicical
in the sense that his clairvoyancy would have caused
a malevolent amount of hair loss anyways.
The expert is still non-flustered when the public denominates him
as "a balding sesquipedalian literate commentator with a tendency
to use swollen dialect." The critics continue to accuse
the fellow of "lacking heuristic intellectual capacities." In rebuttal
the huffed individual harks out from his ballooned lungs,
"I hope your local medical community will diagnose you with
pneumonoltramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis!"
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