Anadiplosis (an’-a-di-plo’-sis): The repetition of the last word (or phrase) from the previous line, clause, or sentence at the beginning of the next. Often combined with climax.
I bought a pair of cowboy boots. Cowboy boots on my feet made me feel like a man. A man who is home on the range, where “the deer and the antelope play.” My boots were made from dead anteaters. Anteaters are manly like grizzly bears or boar hogs. Boar hogs grunt like weight lifters. Weight lifters can hardly move with all their muscles. Muscles make you strong, but when you get old they look like flesh-wrapped Crisco puff pastries.
Wait! What am I thinking? Somehow it must all tie together. The man-making boots. The anteaters. The boar hogs. The grunting weightlifters. The muscles. The pastries. My cowboy boots are mixing me up. I was going to get spurs for them, but now I’m returning them to Zappos. If I knew what an antelope is, I might keep them. But I don’t, so I won’t. Instead, I’m going to get a pair of black cowhide wingtips with built-in lifts, like rich people wear. 2-inches taller, I’ll walk down the street like I have a big time job— maybe as a television producer or a car salesman. My shoes will lift my soul as well as my body—in both cases, giving me a new perspective. I will be lifted up. But the “manly” aura of the boots will be lost. If I can find wingtip cowboy boots, I can project a balance of masculinity and while-collar wealth.
I found a place that will custom-make any kind of boots you want. It’s located in Laredo, TX and it’s called “Nancy’s.” My custom boots would cost $900.00. I robbed a couple of convenience stores on 8th Avenue and sold 200 caps of Ecstasy at the train station. Now I had enough money to pay for the boots and fly to Texas to be fitted for my boots.
Well, I got busted for robbery and drug dealing before I could go anywhere. Now I’m wearing cotton slippers and sitting on my bed at Rikers.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
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