Munction Rules
Curleycues and thingamajigs
Populate the homes of pigs
They have no taste except for food
Avoid them and don’t come unglued
They have no need for wigs
Like horse-headed men of question
Munctious dudes of elevation
The first rule of munction
If you really hope to function
Diversion from the real station
The first rule states you must
stay behind a veil of dust
Don’t call attention home
Be cool, don’t let your words roam
Avoid advertising your lust
When following rule number one
Don’t talk of all that’s under the sun
There’s no need for a number two
Pigs don’t know what they should do
But don their wigs and have some fun
dkirkstokes 
It’s a little difficult to explain this. My brother and I were prone to illegal habits- all forms of alcohol were only legalized here recently, so we had to “run the gauntlet” just to bring a sixpack home, and needless to say other intoxicants were also the subject of possible detention… We decided we needed a word to replace paranoia, for when the bastards really WERE after us… Munction. First rule of munction: Don’t call attention to yourself. Second rule of munction: If you follow the first rule, there is no need for a second rule.
loss of munction, even after extensive, yet veiled Rehab, leads to battalions of foreign Ears wearing wigs, intended to divert one’s focus away from the actual horseheaded assholes that pretend to be elevated above the rest of us. Now, come on, none of us can help it, we all /advertise our lust/, clearly I contend, contrary to your view that fucking pigs do know what to do–otherwise we would certainly have run completely out of bacon in 1492, or 3.
Hahaha. You got it.
an entertaining read…even before your explanation turned up the lights enough to see beneath the veil.
I hope I didn’t reveal too much…
cool poem, love your tips and guided rules
My family and friends are familiar enough with the term that we use it casually. It’s now part of our lexicon, and I’m hoping it will spread. Big Brother is watching.
I think it is great that there is a history behind this ‘nonsense’. Good job! I’ve just added munction to my vocab
Great, Debi! Spread the word!
wow… that much action to bring a sixpack home… but in a way…if you can carry it home legally it’s half the fun… of course beer is “legal” over here in germany but some regulations esp. for the teens would not be bad at all
Claudia, in the great State of Mississippi alcoholic drinks were illegal throughout my youth, and in my teen years bootleggers operated openly in counties where the law enforcement was in cahoots with them. Most adults drank but maintained the facade anyway, kind of a weird message for the young folks. Gradually cities and counties voted to legalize so that there are now only a few “dry” counties left. My county is legally dry, but the town that is the county seat voted to legalize alcohol sales just last year. Now if I drive to town for groceries and buy something alcoholic I’m technically illegal as soon as I leave town and go back into the county. Local law says they won’t bother people taking alcohol home, but… munction.
There is sense behind this nonsense – brilliant combination! I liked the pigs with wigs best, but also the idea of hiding behind a veil of dust.
Thank you, MarinaSofia. I think I channeled Orwell for a moment there. (smile)
I think a lingo like this hides the real intentions of what you are doing..
Yes, Bjorn.
I agree with Bjorn: munction=covert subterfuge here. Empty beverage cans have a bang-up reputation for alternative usage.
Hiding is what it’s all about. When driving back home from a ‘wet’ county carrying contraband, there must be no sign in the vehicle of such activity. People from other states who are unaware of the “blue laws”, as they’re called, have been put in jail for carrying beer or liquor in their vehicles unopened. Roadblocks are a common occurrence around here, mostly checking for booze.
This is really taking nonsense back to its roots. One reason for early nonsense verse was to give vent to opinions that if written in plain language would land you in jail … or worse. Nonsense meant that the true meaning of your wrods was a matter of interpretation – except to insiders who knew exactly what you meant.
Tony, I live in Mississippi, the home of the blues. I grew up hearing blues music played by local folks, and this technique of camouflaging your meaning in euphemism was common, and for the same reason. There’s a lot of inside humor hidden in those early blues lyrics, too. Thank you for the observation, and the prompt.
Thanks for the explanation at the end. It really have the poem a richer meaning!
Ah I read your poem a few times and then was struggling for a clue – which your note helped. Very well built. I recall my college days and I had similar rules too.
Ah, those college days…