My friend Joe challenged our poetry group to write a poem about metal, but not gold, silver or platinum. I wrote this:

yum yum yum molybdenum
say it thrice it makes you thrum

with it i am o so chummy
want to be molybdenummy

love it quickly love it slowly
worship it as holy moly

moly ringwald moly hatchet
moly fever let’s all catch it

that is why i gave it chase
wound up with a moly face

This morning I frantically riffled through my archives for a second Holy Moly. Here it is:

Two Holy Molys will see me safe to Phoenix, where I’ll see my mother, my daughter, and, I hope, my ailing stepfather. Au revoir!