Fleet Sweet Flexibility!

(with gratitude to the former Secretary of State)

Apolitically – as is my wont –
and meaning not one whit of disrespect –
I have appropriated “Condoleezza Rice”
as quite the nicest bright concatenated
and most rippling sound of all the many
marvelous competitors my mouth has ever found:
one wag I know said when he heard the name

he’d reflex: “zesty side dish!” – cute, but:
pish! – it’s so much more delicious! –
how it lolls and trips and ululates all over
palate, teeth and lips – and how my soul
sips nectar when its spectral bliss
leaves that mysterious strange whiff again
just hovering there, shimmering before my nose.

I have supposed it into every part of speech:
I “Condoleezza Rice” instead of preach
or leech or bleach; “Decisively?” No! –
“Condoleezza Rice-ively;” song lyrics
ache for it to substitute: superior advances! –
“Condoleezza Rice exchanging glances” –
but mainly it’s the preternaturally fleet

sweet flexibility the name evokes:
luring swooning lyric whispers
out of sensuous syllabic cloaks! When I speak it
I tweak possibilities into a snaky scheme –
I am a writhing naked thing – a malleable dream!
You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. In a gerund:
Condoleezza Rice-ing hits the spot.



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