Short Hake Poems

An unlucky young man from Michigan
Had a very unusual condichigan
He got sick from a hake
That he found in the lake
And now he can never eat fishigan...

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I ponder on this till I ache:
a haddock who says he's a hake -
I guess it's his right
to think that despite
so many believe he's a fake...

Written 25th April for Constance's ache contest...

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It’s too early to prite woetry.
Let me hay lere in my bed.
I hartied pardy. Woe is me.
Oh, my hounding pead!

My joughts are thumbled. My oh my.
It’s hust so jard to think.
I heel so forrid; why oh why?
Did someone dike my sprink?

Good grief, it’s tuch moo early to awake.
It’s ten a.m for seaven’s hake!

 January 23, 2017...

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Steady Eddie was always ready
For meatballs and spaghetti.

Dan the man was a big fan
Of eating eggs with boiled ham.

Bob the slob was on the job
To chew away corn on the cob.

Mitt the git could hardly sit
When served a bowl of shrimp & grits.

Jake the snake, numb as a hake
Just adored potato and steak.

Tricky Ricky who looked all sickly
Finds it all to be quite icky!...

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From my vision came your dreams
Burning out like the boiling colourless steam
With a sweet flavour of the white vanilla cream
Playing on in auto, like the unstoppable theatre film
dripping out of my orbits, like beam
Behold the great beautiful  trim
That which cleanse away all the grim
Your aim to be able to kill the squirrel hake
It still stays in my vision in hale
Gushing with such gusto, never pale...

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Schools of fish in this lake seem to hold a fest
Fishes of all sorts swim in an august zest 
Shining in spotted, striped, silver, and gold vest
Schools of fish in this lake seem to hold a fest
Carp, cod, hake, jack, shad, and sole in blest best jest
Flexing and gliding through the calm water crest
Schools of fish in this lake seem to hold a fest
Fishes of all sorts swim in an august zest


21 November 2021...

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