Mompoet's parents (grand-poets?) have lodged a formal protest about my previous post. They have accused me of being purposefully obscure, which is something I frequently criticize in the work of other poets. In an effort to de-mystify "Boing" I will now provide notes for this post.
Boing = the sensation of being tightly sprung and bounding and rebounding, with little control and even less care for control
Boing is a happy feeling.
Boing as a verb indicates the motion made by Tigger.
Boing sounds funny.
Boing is an all-consuming, pervasive sensation experieced most commonly on Wednesdays at 3pm, but sometimes earlier in the week.
Boing is not spiritual or intellectual. It is the body laughing at nothing in particular.
Boing is contagious.
Try this at home. Walk up to someone and stand right in front of him/her. Step a little closer. Say, "Boing," then just stand there. You will both laugh really loud for a long time.
There it is.
Question: Boing enigmatic or Boing parsed?
mompoet - post-boing