JOIST is exactly the kind of Worku word that makes everyone earn their seventeen syllables. It’s specific, technical, and stubbornly structural—and pairing it with words like HOIST, MOIST, FOIST, and JOINT makes rhyme almost impossible to resist. The interesting question becomes whether the sound game can still build an actual poem. Mark does that especially well by constructing an entire gingerbread-house crisis around the vocabulary, while auntie jj makes joist-hoisting just another part of an ordinary morning. Mick takes JOIST into haiku-like Worku, where moist soil becomes the structural support of a wetland and even herons seem willing to honor a temporary truce. A difficult constraint can expose the scaffolding—but sometimes the scaffolding becomes the poem.