When Father Carves the Duck

I recently bought a new phone, this blog post is in honor of my phone emeritus. It is a very innocent phone, with a lacking but enthusiastic T9 word completer. Below is its attempt to spell a certain word that was not in its vocabulary (and arguably shouldn't be in mine either).

Here are it's attempts to find my word, in order:

• ducked
• ducked's
• ducked'll
• duckeds
• duckeding
• duckeded
• duckedly
• duckedness
• duckeder
• duckeders
• duckedal
• duckedment
• duckdally
• duckedion
• duckedings
• duckedable
• duckedments
• duckedions
• duckedive
• duckedation
• duckedrs
• duckedic
• duckedably
• duckedy
• ducked've
• ducked'd
• ducked

And then it looped.
It may be enlightening to know that "ducked" (past tense of duck) was not in the dictionary before I added it.

My new phone returns the following only:

• ducked

how boring!

Challenge to readers: Use five of the words from the list in a comment.

I'll start below:

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I'm not one to normally appreciate poems, but this is the most enjoyable one I have ever read, it is so duckedally written. I like how the author uses a duckedive to allow the duckedeons to flow smoothly into the duckedments.

When Father Carves the Duck

We all look on with anxious eyes

When father carves the duck,

And mother almost always sighs

When father carves the duck;

And all of us prepare to rise

And hold our bibs before our eyes,

And be prepared for some surprise,

When father carves the duck.

He braces up and grabs a fork

Whene'er he carves a duck,

And won't allow a soul to talk

Until he's carved the duck,

The fork is jabbed into the sides,

Across the breast the knife he slides,

While every careful person hides

From flying chips of duck.

The platter's always sure to slip

When father carves a duck,

And how it makes the dishes skip!

Potatoes fly amuck!

The squash and cabbage leap in space,

We get some gravy in our face,

And father mutters Hindu grace

Whene'er he carves a duck.

We then have learned to walk around

The dining room and pluck

From off the window-sills and walls

Our share of father's duck,

While father growls and blows and jaws

And swears the knife was full of flaws,

And mother laughs at him because

He couldn't carve a duck.

— E.V. Wright