Ho Ho (Hum) Seven

        Ho Ho (Hum) Seven

As boring as an alto’s pulsing throat

(Or tenor’s) singing Schumann lieder, or

“Four Seasons” on your phone, an anecdote

Your uncle has retold ten times before,

A James Yawned movie comes around again.

They’re all the same, same female baddies, plot

The same, same villain, all the same, John Wayne

In cardboard yet again.  All these are naught

In value, but the audience will “think”

The glitzy guns and weapons, contraptions

And jazzed jalopies, gizmos on the brink

Of brilliance, worthy of Batman captions.

  The fact that they are all formulaic

    Makes them right for stupid minds, prosaic.

Phillip Whidden