You built a Diff’rence Engine
Just to see if it would work,
Then locked it in a cabinet
And let it snooze and shirk.
In all of its magnificence,
It’s still in cog and joint.
You say it makes no diff‘er‘ence;
I say, that’s just my point !
(After Molière, The Learnèd Ladies, Act 3, Scene 3)
Another world has passed us by
Just as we were sleeping,
And fallen through our vortex as we lie;
A happenstance unseen across our sky.
For all the while the linens we were keeping,
A momentary spark can live and die.
Ms is such an ugly word,
Let ev’ry Ms become a Miss;
I know no-wedlock is inferred,
But Ms is such an ugly word.
And Mrs too, a mumble slurred:
It’s not the sense, but sound I diss.
For Ms is such an ugly word;
Let ev’ry Ms become a Miss.
Abbey – a building with arches and towers;
And also a girl who fidgets and glowers.
Abbey – a building with gargoyles and gables;
And also a girl who hides under tables.
Abbey – a building with vaulting and chapels;
And also a girl who giggles and grapples.
Abbey – a building with windows and doorways;
And also a girl who’s curious, all ways.
Her hair is purest white, not quite,
Her skin is hinted bisque,
Her eyes are palest blue in hue,
Her lips are coral kissed.
Her subtleties of shade displayed
Are never blanched, but lush;
And with a gentle goose, educe
A gorgeous crimson blush.
I would just like to add thatb the goose was consentual.
Oh, poor buildings ! Gutted inside;
They mistook your artisan pride for slumming.
They rip-out and knock-through, your subtleties egress
To plate-glass and concrete: the onmarch of regress.
Go, poor buildings ! Run off and hide !
The architects are coming !
They turn all to shit that they plan, draw and quarter,
But keep your façades as the trophies they slaughter.