This week’s poem uses Dictionary.com’s words of the day from the dates of August 6th through August 12th. The words were: hew, guff, orectic, vicinage, pillory, pelagic, and natty.

An Elaborate Lesson

The historian of Stanton, in his stint as steward
of the largest library in the lower forty-eight,
had one pearl of wisdom he waved about
―if questioned because of course he was modest.
“Whomsoever hews to the hesitant belief
that they’re wielders of wisdom, be wary: your intellect
could amount to a mountain of molecules (not a lot).
Take for your troubles the tale of Eric,
the viking adventurer from the vicinage of Cuppin,
a humble little hamlet and a haven for drunkards.
Now vikings ―it is veritable fact― were averse
to sobriety, and though all were unbridled in debauchery,
they were seldom unsightly for the sauce was a tonic
and never were nattier inebriates seen
than in the corners and crannies of Cuppin’s slums.
But returning to our titular Eric, he was tawdry
and given to guff and egregious misuse
of an ornamental object he often wore
on his head: a large helmet of humorous design
upon which was poised a most appalling horn
that looked ―if one’s look were to linger― distinctly phallic.
Eric arrogantly and erringly claimed
―as would Freud― the offense was fiction only
modeled in the immoral minds of those
who perceive with consent of their own obsession
and whose view is converted by virtue of their own
orectic will ―though such reasoning is but to erect excuses.
He was boastful and boisterous and unabatedly coarse
in speaking of himself with respect to his splendour
so his people suggested that he prove himself
by taking a tour over turbulent waters.
They had an accord ―well, of course― and by all accounts he aimed
to sail the six ―or whatever― seas
(for never was knowledge of navigating his strength).
Case in point: he piddled about ponderously in circles
in the lake by his beloved landlocked town
for month after month until months were years
before alighting at last on the spot where he left.
He dubbed the indigenous denizens (his relatives)
‘Indians’ and any influence he might
have once kept was squandered unquestionably and thenceforth
his name was anointed with numerous epithets.
Ludicrously lame his pelagic voyage
was less ocean than empty ostentation
for pillory not pillage was the profit he took.
So there is your moral, your menial memento:
If you think without thought then your thinking’s worth less.
But no loss: you’re at least as enlightened as the rest.”