Wax Poets

I have another story up on North by Northwestern.  You can read it here!  I now have a staff of editors reading my work, so even if the title is the same, the story is new and improved!  Well, mostly just improved.


And back to Linguistic Gimmicks.  Today's post definitely fits with the blog's title.  It's also a new style of work:  a monologue!  Other than saying it's an homage with a sprinkling of meta-ness, I really can't explain it more, so you'll just have to read on.

            “Welcome to the Wax Poets Museum.  My name is Tony, and I’ll be your tour guide today for our wonderful exhibits.  Now, there are so many effigies of poets in our museum, but we’ll only have time to view the highlights.  Not that you would really want to see the unimportant poets anyway.

            First up is one of the museum’s proudest wax statues:  Robert Frost.  You can either go to the left or right to view it, though most people prefer to take the first route.  Make sure you read some of his most famous poems that are showcased around him.  Everyone good?  OK, let’s move on.

            Now we’ll take a turn from the natural to the supernatural.  On your left you will see our wax Edgar Allen Poe.  Some say this statue is haunted.  It’s probably true.  This is one of our oldest wax figures; we’ve had it for nevermore.

            Let’s move on to a prettier sight.  Emily Dickinson will be coming up on your right, with Louisa May Alcott right past her.  Yes sir, do you have a question?  Oh, you write poetry?  No, you can’t be recreated out of wax.  Why?  You have to be dead.  Making wax statues resembling the living is just plain creepy.  Moving on.

            Ah, here we have wax John Donne.  This area always has lots of fleas covering his body.  They’re attracted to him for some reason.  Don’t ask me why.

            next is one of my favorites, e.e. cummings.  any questions about the tour thus far?  yes, ma’am?  i’m sorry, you have to ask again, this time without capitalization.  thank you, that’s much better.  who are we seeing next, you ask?  let's see.  oh, it’s walt, sorry, Walt Whitman.  You can’t have a complete wax poet museum without a Walt Whitman.

            The penultimate stop on our tour is Sylvia Plath.  No matter what we try, her wax always ends up melting.  We end up resetting the figure every day.  Looks like it’ll need some touch up soon.  What a pain.  Makes you want to kill yourself.

            Finally, we come to one of our most prized pieces of wax:  Shel Silverstein.  One of our newest additions and already one of our favorites.  I could speak about Mr. Silverstein for ages, but I’ll spare you the rhymes.

            Well, that concludes our tour.  I hope I haven’t waxed poetic about our wax poets for too long.  If you enjoyed your time at the Wax Poets Museum, please come back and visit soon!”