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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?