‘Twas feckish, and the irkly grobes Did fark and fistle in the slade; All dingly were the rectiprobes And the dampnuts updrade. “Beware the Trumplewock, my friend! The bigly mouth, those puny mitts! Beware the Tweet bird, and off-fend The cronious Perkletits!” She packed her poisal voice and went: Fat chance the vapid imp she’d […]

via Trumplewocky — SLHARPERPOETRY