Tonight's Poet Corner: Gynecomastia

Gynecomastia
by Belinda Roddie

When you stumble on a chance word, name,
or "scientific" term, you often fight giggles
in the back of your tickling throat.
Like Morton's toe. Who's Morton?
What's wrong with his toe?
Did he bang it too many times on his iron stove
while trying to brew up a pot of Earl Gray?

And Doll Tearsheet. Obviously, a prostitute name.
That's something that's transcended even Shakespeare
(My friend likes Violet Crayon).
Skeuomorphia is quite an issue in today's society.
Polyorchids are somewhat rarer.

A brannock device is what you see while shopping,
and a fruit machine doesn't give you fruit.
Paresthesia happens when you
sleep on your foot the wrong way,
though at least it's not a bad case of obdormation.
But petrichor is one of my favorite aromas,
tingling on my philtrum.

And the title of this little spiel?
Figure it out in a faded dictionary
or your flickering tablet
and you may raise an eyebrow to the vocabulary
that we miss out on every single day.

This poem was inspired by Buzzfeed's 25 Everyday Things You Never Knew Had Names. Special thanks goes to Arden Kilzer for finding the article.