Why has the English dictionary grown so thin?
Why is it weeping between its covers?
Because today is the day
all words of foreign origin
return to their native borders.
Linguists are rioting in the streets.
Crossword lovers are on hunger strike.
But words are voting with their feet
and familiar objects across the British Isles
have staged a mass evacuation.
Anoraks
have been seen flying off backs
remaking their Innuit tracks.
Bananas
hands forming a queue
are now bound for a Bantu rendezvous.
Hammocks
leave bodies in mid-swing
and billow back to a Carib beginning.
Pyjamas
without regard to size or age
take off on a Hindu pilgrimmage.
Sofas
huddle themselves into caravans,
their destination – the Arabian sands.
Even Baguettes
(as we speak) grab the chance
to jump the channel for the south of France
This is a tragedy
turning into a comedy
for reports are reaching us by satellite
that in the wee hours of the night
the ghosts of ancient Greeks and Romans
have been preparing an epic knees-up
to mark the homecoming of their word hoard.
Stay tuned for live and direct coverage
on this day a dictionary mourns its language
