Wordsworth

Readers were invited to submit a four-line poem ending with this final line from Harlem by Langston Hughes: Or does it explode? John Edgar of Christchurch writes: Have you checked your building,/Are you sure it’s up to code?/Will it stand a mighty shaking/Or does it explode? From Auckland’s Helen Morris: Ripe and wrinkled pumpkin,/ Dumped by the side of the road./Does it sag and then collapse/Or does it explode? Janet O’Carroll of Wellington: This gadget I’ve bought,/Does it do what it ought?/Is it in safety mode/Or does it explode? Robyn Gillies of Geraldine: Methane in the permafrost,/Huge bubble waits below./Does the thaw release it slowly/Or does it explode? Daphne Tobin of Porirua: What happens to an ageing heart/When we lift too heavy a load?/Does it gradually just wear out?/Or does it explode? Wellington’s Allan Laidler: What happens to a dream deferred:/ That my computer’s never erred?/ Does it download? Does it decode?/Or does it explode? Auckland’s Alison Booth: I’ve got three coloured wires here/And I must remember the code./Does it fizzle when I cut the red one/Or does it explode? Kaye Bennetts of Whangaparaoa: Lithium batteries loose in a box/On a long and bumpy road./Does such a cargo travel safe/Or does it explode? But the winner is Lesley Treweek of Invercargill: Though I have reached maturity, my life’s one of obscurity./I say with some veracity, my thinking’s reached capacity./Will cerebral overload disgorge the perfect ode?/Cause grey matter to implode or does it explode? The next contest is to create a backronym, or reverse acronym as the words are chosen to fit the letters. Choose one of the following words and expand it into a phrase corresponding to its letters: PROPERTY, JOGGING, MARRIAGE, GOVERNMENT, ALCOHOL. Entries, for the prize below, close at noon, Thursday, May 18.