I wrote a nonet, nine syllables down to one, for The Secret Keeper, but my poem didn’t use all the prompt words (STEP | TREAT | COLD | HOLE | PEEL), so I wrote back up from one syllable to nine. Have I invented the nonetenon?

Fat Shannon stayed over at my home

One cold night late in the autumn

When we were just ten or so.

In the alley, we found

Empty beer bottles.

He got one and

Threw it at

Thin Clay’s

House.

“Run!”

I yelled,

And we tried,

But we were fat

And all bundled up.

Shannon stepped in a hole

And fell, and I fell too.

Our peels of laughter rang out

And I thought, what a treat to have

Fat Shannon spending the night tonight.