Words, Words, Twaddle, 47

(We all dislike/hate certain words and locutions; here are some of mine.)

Harping Again?

You said, “We should up-skill the staff!”

Then smiled in pride at your own words.

I stood and held the hot carafe

And thought about those mythic birds—

The harpies! Yes, I’d summon them

And tell them of a man in need

Of shredding. They’d swoop in on him,

And soon they would begin to feed.

But that’s too hard—would some giraffe

Attempt to solve some Sherlock case?

And then I looked at the carafe …
How would hot coffee shut his face?

Hmmmmmm … ?