Portmantoetry

By Neil A. Hogan

 

Where are you hiding, oh portmanteau?

For my blog, listicle, and webcast,

From a digerati slacktivist,

A metrosexual netizen,

A bionic flexitarian,

Frustratedly searching high and low.

 

Where are you now, oh portmanteau?

With writer’s block my frenemy,

My brunch stomach aches hangry,

The spam arrives, I quickly spork,

Irregardless of others’ talk,

Dreading that you will never show.

 

Give up on yo’, portmanteau?

Part with scripts for the romcom?

Throw away notes for the sitcom?

No! Perhaps in a podcast?

Or maybe a simulcast?

Aha. I have been too slow!

 

Your secret is out, portmanteau!

Found by just a solopreneur,

Researching hazmats for a stir,

Checking email for a mcjob,

Reviewing mopeds through a smog.

It dawned on me, why you are so.

 

No need to search for, oh portmanteau

Not in cosplay, nor edutainment

Nor a bodacious mansplained dissent

Not in chillax bromance dramedies

Nor in mobisodes by oxbridgies

I am to create yo’. Now I know.