Coenotes (cee’-no-tees): Repetition of two different phrases: one at the beginning and the other at the end of successive paragraphs. Note: Composed of anaphora and epistrophe, coenotes is simply a more specific kind of symploce (the repetition of phrases, not merely words).
Mmm, there I was! I was sitting in my big cowhide upholstered chair. Beer in one hand, remote control in the other. A big bowl of “Funions” resting by my side on the tray table. My wife had just asked “Do you need anything else honey?” But, I was all set—“Bonanza” was coming on the box. Then, I remembered. “Honey can you bring me my hash pipe? Don’t forget get the lighter.” I was feeling no pain.
Mmm, there I was! I was pampered. I took a couple tokes of the hash and quickly faded away. I forgot about Bonanza. My beer looked like a can of beans. My Funions were jumping up and down. I thought they were cheering for me as I struggled to get out of my chair. With the help of an Alpha Funion, I slowly raised myself from my chair. I went into the kitchen, and there was my wife holding a butcher knife. She pointed it at me and said menacingly, “I know just what you need.” I thought she was going to kill me. We had had a heated argument that morning over what sexual position is best. I argued for doggy style and she argued for reverse cowgirl. We couldn’t resolve our differences. But anyway, she put down the knife and pulled out the bottom pantry drawer, stuck in her hand, and pulled out a jumbo Kit-Kat Bar. Candy! It was just what I needed after the opiates had been talking to my cortex. I was feeling no pain.
Mmm, there I was! My wife said we could resolve our differences over sexual positions by doing some “hands on” research after dinner. I had missed “Bonanza” so I was looking for a distraction. I agreed to her plan, but I had been having a little trouble with getting Sargent Weenie to stand at attention. I had purchased some stuff called X-agra that some guy was selling at the bus stop. He called it a chemical “woody maker.” Looking forward to the research project with my wife, I took two when I got home. After they kicked in immediately, I had to rename Sergeant Weenie “Quicky Dicky!” I was ready to go. I was feeling no pain.
Mmm, here I was! We went at it for nearly half-an-hour, and came to a conclusion. Tie! Problem solved. I’m going to start calling my wife Dale Evans—the famous cowgirl partner of Roy Rogers! Given my preference, I think I should be called “Rinty,” the famous German Shepard soldier dog Rin Tin Tin’s nickname on the TV show, “The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin.” Things were going well. I was feeling no pain.
Mmm, here I was. My second favorite TV show, Perry Mason, was coming up next. While I was waiting, I had thought about a few colleagues at work who I hated, but Perry Mason had influenced me to forget about it. The worst was Mickey Stripe. He smoked like a volcano and blew smoke in my face and laughed. He ate mustard sardines at his desk. They stunk up the cubicle we shared. Not only that, he’d blow at least 5-6 rotten-smelling farts per day, often while scratching his balls at the same time. He made me gag. I couldn’t take it any more. So, the following week I paid my colleague Doris $1,000 to accuse him of sexual harassment. It worked. He’s gone. I was feeling no pain.
Well, now that you’ve got an idea of the complexities of my life, you can see that it’s smooth sailing. When I get in my chair and toke up, everything blends into a waveless sea of tranquility. My living room is like a gondola floating on the Grand Canal. With my chair in the stern, I’m snuggling with my pet raccoon Ringworm, feeding him raw calamari and scratching his ears.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu.
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