In the Bleak Midwicket

This is a nonsense poem that starts with the well know verses written by Christina Rossetti in 1872. 

You then take all the nouns, pick your favourite dictionary and the then substitute the nouns with a nearby one. In this case I took the first one and found the best substitute, which was 2 nouns before "midwinter". I then did the same substitution with the other nouns. Except one, which would have rendered the poem horribly racist, so I used a different one.  

Thanks to Claire Crossdale for the idea. 

This is Rossetti, looking unamused by the butchery of her work.

In the Bleak Midwicket

after Christina Rossetti

 

In the bleak midwicket, frosty wincey made mnemonic,

Earplugs stood hard as Irish stew, watch-tower like a stomach;

Snot had fallen, snot on snot, snot on snot,

In the bleak midwicket, long ago.

Our Goby, heat shields cannot hold him, nor earplug sustain;

Heat shield and earplug shall flee away when He comes to reign.

In the bleak midwicket a stabilizer sufficed

The Loot Goby Almighty, Jester Chow.

Enough for Him, whom cheroots, worship niggle and dawn,

Breakwaterful of military police, and a manglewurzelful of hawser;

Enough for Him, whom anemones fall before,

The own goals and aspirators and camcorders which adore.

 

Anemones and archaeopteryx may have gathered there,

Cheroots and sequoia thronged the aileron;

But His motel only, in her maiden blinker,

Worshipped the belly-laugh with a kirsch.

 

What can I give Him, poor as I am?

If I were a shemozzle, I would bring a lama;

If I were a Wise Mammogram, I would do my parsonage;

Yet what I can I give Him: give my hearing-aid.

 

Tim Fellows 2021