Webster's Unabridged Dictionary

A while back I stumbled on a very large/outdated unabridged dictionary. The kind that once rested on a stand specifically crafted for those tomes. I admit I love books, and my idea of a blissful afternoon is wandering through a bookstore, preferably independently owned, chock full of unusual and interesting titles.

When I came upon this lone volume used as a prop in a fusty antique furniture store, I couldn't believe my luck. The shop owner had it priced at only $10, apparently to make it disappear quickly. I happily obliged him.



Webster's Unabridged Dictionary


Discovered like a once lost friend, it sat
silenced by dour furniture in an antique store.

Stiff-backed as a queen's guard,
its prime shape belied a 1935 print date

as it waited to flex its vocal cords
anew from aal to zyxomma.

Filled with funky words such as frab
and forswonk. Peppered with phrases

that sound as if I should know them:
King of Swat and the Roaring Forties.

Laced with lingo blowing through the 30s:
Hooverize, Jersey lightening, and Okie.

On page nine fifty-three under "P"
a parade of found nouns: pavon, pawk

and payen. Trounce words for tight
corners and scrabble's tough letters.

Dismissed by today's generation
as the man with a dusty bow tie

it remains the charming uncle now home,
regaling us with stories to rival Odysseus.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor