Cane Mutiny

Uncle Bob was a ham--with his cane he would point;
like the late Victor Borge he’d crack up the joint.
(Punctuation, phonetic, was done by the Dane,
  yet where Victor orated, our Bob used his cane.)

Uncle Bob’s cane in thickness was curved a wee bit;
made of hickory wood--yep, I think that was it.
There were red lines and blue lines along the wood shaft;
added color to cane helped Bob sharpen his craft

which amounted to emphasis at sentence end;
for a period, Uncle Bob’s cane would extend
and he’d jab at the air as if he were all wrought,
placing there for us all an invisible dot.

Then for question mark Bob twirled his cane with aplomb,
(in a way it was wee atmospheric maelstrom.)
Yet there stayed no real danger for any to dread,
lest there happened to be chandelier overhead.

But the question mark always remained to behold,
and for cane punctuation it never got old.
As the cane scythed the air like a tremulous bird,
and the dot was applied, came a hint of a word

from an uncle whose manic flowed overt all right,
(watching Bob’s punctuation remained our delight.)
Yet what came from his lips, hinting word per his stunt,
was a guttural oomph superceding a grunt.

Now his dash held succinct as he leveled cane so,
and his lips appeared straight which I thought apropos.
He seemed maestro extant punctuating again,
though with each semicolon he grimaced in pain.

(Uncle Bob had an ego with pride bursting through;
  he was seventy eight acting like twenty two.
  And though his muscle mass had diminished of late,
  he waved hickory cane of significant weight.)

Oh so sure of himself, punctuation to bring;
whether comma or ellipsis, caning his thing.
And Bob basked in euphoria, high in the sky,
yet when he tried quotation marks, all went awry.

That old hickory cane spoke with something to say;
a revolt, if you will, its own weight had its way.
Punctuation too stressful--no shocking surprise;
now in hospital traction old Uncle Bob lies.


40 Lines
Anapestic Tetrameter
Writer’s Cramp
4-10-16