Free-verse poem using words devoid of their usual prefixes and having changed meanings. Reading this poem requires a bit of thought to spot all the words that lack their usual prefixes and translate them into their changed meanings. Happy hunting!

This poet seeks to accomplish
with this chalant effort
a sheveled poem full of feck
and producing a sidious effect.

My hope is its readers will say,
a la the golf commentator,
the dapper David Feherty, that
their flabber has been completely
gasted … or at least that they were
quite whelmed upon the read.

My approach is somewhat trepid
since I realize the punity of my actions,
for should readers not find this poem
picable I am vincible.

As my lines dulate along, I trust
the result will be wieldy, if peccable,
and leave readers quite gruntled,
if not completely mayed.

This poet iterates to all that I am
quite lusional as I write these words
and do trust my choice of words is ept
and shan’t cause me to be flappable.

Even should readers find my poem
nocuous, I will remain rather
highly plussed. In any case,
I have little doubt that this poem
will prove to be decidedly unhistoric.