I’m in the final stretch of this poem a day madness. I’m resorting to another prompt from Writer’s Digest PAD Challenge. Here it is:

Pick an intriguing and/or seldom-used word, make it the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. If you have a limited vocabulary, try out brabble, dandle, feracious, impavid, lippitude, or vulgus. Or pick up a dictionary or thesaurus.

Antidisestablishmentarianism is a word from my childhood.


It’s a numbers game now.
Forty years. Twenty-eight letters.
I was ten. Now I am fifty-two.

Yet I call it up effortlessly. Letters
rolling across my tongue, I can spell
this logos megalo in a trance.

I cannot recall his name, an old white man
from church. For a time too brief for clear
memory, he came to our house, taught me

math, English, and spelling beyond my grade.
I cannot fathom now my mother, fierce protector,
inviting this man into our home to sit

by my side for hours. His warm formal voice
I can almost hear, asking questions, coaching
me to ferret out my own answers. There was music

maybe and other words, meanings of words,
and numbers strung along the page. But it is all
that comes easily to mind,
                                     slips easily from my mouth.

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