Alas poor Knorth!
Judge her not by her name.
A knewborn not yet in knickers,
Knighted by knapweeded locknuts.
What knackery is this?

As far as the Knorthwest is from the Ksoutheast, those knaves know no bounds in knomenclature.

(side note: when I first wrote this poem, the rumor was Kayne and Kim spelled their newest daughter’s name Knorth. I’ve since been corrected. They have simply named her North West. — oh that is much better. Good gravy.)