I always forget the story
behind minatory.
There’ll be another pandemic
before I grok epistemic.
It would be glorious
if I could recall uxorious.
There’s too much on my plate
to bother with crepitate.
It is a mystery
why someone coined historiography.
Why worry about puce,
a color I’ll never educe?
I can’t grasp adumbrate,
and that’s my unjust fate.
What the hell is notional?
No need to get emotional.
Whatchamacallit? I frown.
My brain locks out the one true noun.
Forgetting can be anodyne.
Is that a sign?