Category Archives: Anthology

My collected writings and those of family members.

Eric’s Song: Triolet La-La-La

Posted on July 9, 2025 by JMN

“I have never been more proud of our company. Our portfolio is operating flawlessly, and 2025 will mark the strongest year in the remarkable history of the Trump Organization.”(Eric Trump) Papa got his swerve on.(Mojo Monkeys) A Congress cowed and … Continue reading →

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Death in Venice: Triolet

Posted on July 6, 2025 by JMN

The problem with the world is there’s only one of it. If something goes wrong there isn’t a backup. It just grinds on, full of the error. (Luke Allan) A An Amazon swamps Venice’s lagoon.B The world, it just grinds … Continue reading →

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Spasms of Lunacy: Triolet

Posted on June 29, 2025 by JMN

There are lessons to be found in these ancient desks where many hearts are gouged.(Peter Kline) A There are lessons to be found in theseB Halls where horny boys now dead had trudged. c The ancient desks where many hearts … Continue reading →

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Caviar Bumps at Butterworth’s: Triolet

Posted on June 18, 2025 by JMN

A The scene is festive. Where the flames are fedB Tainted choirs croon, “More and more is less.”c Spuds fried in tallow — gag me with a spoon!A The scene is festive where the flames are fed.a In the eyes, … Continue reading →

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Before Bidding Eau de Revoir to the May Issue

Posted on June 16, 2025 by JMN

Here’s something called a triolet from Poetry, May 2025. The form is new to me and strikes a chord: concision, repetition, the discipline imposed. Triolet with a Line by Sylvia Plathby Brittany Perham We take the N out to the … Continue reading →

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Pride Goeth Before a Parade

Posted on June 13, 2025 by JMN

They say: A man who can’t tell shoe polish from shinola is fit to be tied by time and the tide. It’s one of those old sayings they say is never insufficient to the day thereof.  They say: A stitch … Continue reading →

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Manifest MAEGAN

Posted on June 11, 2025 by JMN

Make American English Great Again Now  — MAEGAN — is a sweet hotrod of a movement, a screaming dragster with four-barrel carburetor smoking the shithole competition wherever jalopies duke it out. The Nineteen-Fifties burn rubber in the Twenty-Twenties like there’s … Continue reading →

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Nice Day. Be a Shame You Didn’t Have One.

Posted on June 7, 2025 by JMN

Where the living language is concerned, which let’s face it. So.  Can you spot the tuber posing as a goober? What about a dangled thought left to? Hip to messaging that carries false report? Words happening metaphorically, knot in real … Continue reading →

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‘O Brute May I Come In, O Brute You May’

Posted on May 23, 2025 by JMN

My treatment of Mitchell Glazier’s “The Gazing Ball” (Poetry, May 2025) wasn’t fit for purpose because it came across as testy and dismissive. I’m not equipped nor disposed to be a poetry critic, only a consumer with thoughts. And my … Continue reading →

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Queenly Swans Are Nudging Eternity Figs

Posted on May 22, 2025 by JMN

What the hell is going on in “The Gazing Ball”?  I had to lock horns with Mitchell Glazier’s poem (Poetry, May 2025) and break it down robustly in order to reach a fragile accommodation. I’ve come to expect having to … Continue reading →

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