I missed the midnight deadline on this one but for the best of reasons: a full day of poetry activities at the wonderful Wenlock Poetry Festival. I got home close to midnight and I had started the poem but was too tired to concentrate.
There was no swearing
in a Pentecostal house.
So parents, when discussing words
children should not hear,
would clinically dismember them
and whisper each letter.
This somehow drew the word’s sting.
The same logic says chocolate bars
are less fattening in chunks.
When I learned to spell
they were undone, but weren’t prepared
to go as far as anagrams.