By Bob Gaydos

‘Tis a word that I see that simply can’t be with letters like N,M,J and B, yet the puzzle insists and the poets say, you can make a word with letters like MBN and J.

Ok?

‘Tis a gimmick, a tool, a conceit if you will, that poets employ when they’ve more to say still and a flow to maintain so punctuation must go and critics refrain.

Enjambment.

Spelling Bee, I hate thee for hours of head-scratching misery, seeking to unravel the ultimate word with the likes of NMJ and B is absurd. Beyond belief, nothing but grief to go with my tea. N,M,J and B.

Woe is me.

But Google hath confirmed there is such a word, even though it’s one that I’ve never heard.

To stay healthy, ’tis said, live and learn is the rule, but let’s see if my friend the poet knows this unspeakably unspellable tool.

He does, alas, and impressed that, when asked, he says, “Oh, yes.” Of course, should expect no less since he went to school to learn to do it and does so very well.

What can I say to a poet who not only knows Enjambment but can spell … MBN and J?

Do tell?

Chastened and humbled, I must bow to the pros, to those who know to separate poetry from prose, to Kevin and Mary and others I can’t immediately recall, for knowing ‘bout Enjambment.

Spelling and all.

                                    ****

Footnote: On the very good chance I didn’t make myself clear above, I do the New York Times Spelling Bee word game every morning with a cup of tea. A ritual. Usually do fairly well. I got stuck one recent morning when the source word was enjambment. Tell me you ever heard of it. Oxford: “(In verse) the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line, couplet, or stanza.”

It never came up when I majored in English at Adelphi some 60-plus years ago, but then poetry, as well as the times, are a changin’. Sorry, Bob.

Consider this your English lesson for the week.