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Holly Painter

Finagle

Foible

Fondle

Finagle

Finagle always makes me think of fishing,
angling specifically, primarily because
of the sounds but also the tradition
of baits and lures, slyness and trickery.

But the middle syllable draws too much
attention to itself. Take cunning, stealth,
subtle. Sneakiness with a feather touch,
quiet words that keep low and don’t tell

you what they’re up to, whereas finagle
is crude and transparent in its schemes, so
conspicuous that it rhymes with bagel
and little else. Even if the plan goes

perfectly, when you’ve gotten what you wished
for, just don’t imagine no one’s noticed.

 

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Foible

There’s nothing about the meaning of foible
that bothers me – some minor weakness or flaw
in character – but the sound makes me recoil.
It’s hard to say without a Southern drawl

or Jersey accent or a cartoon squeak.
It seems to me like a grandmother’s word,
the kind she uses only when she speaks
to Granddad in a cadence rarely heard

outside those post-war small-town shows where they
are always crying “Jeepers!” and “Golly!”
with round mouths and earnest tones. Children play
with hoops and grown-ups discuss the follies

and foibles of the local townsfolk and
use wholesome diction we don’t understand.


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Fondle

Fondle originally meant “to show
fondness.” That’s all. The caressing part came
later. But even the dictionaries know
they’re defining a compromised word, defamed

by masturbators, child molesters,
and handsy teenage boys. After the neutral
definitions (to handle with affection,
to touch lovingly), look at the sample

usages the dictionaries give: “to
fondle a child”; “to fondle, hug, and kiss
a baby.” No doubt these were once construed
innocently, but certainly not this

century. We’ll never fondle anything again
without thinking about where that word has been.

 

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Holly Painter is an MFA graduate of the University of Canterbury in Christchurch, New Zealand. Her poetry has been published in literary journals in the US, New Zealand, and Australia. These poems come from Awkwords, a collection of sonnets about awkward words. Holly lives with her wife in Singapore.

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