Tax Day Limericks!
The limerick’s callous and crude,
Its morals distressingly lewd;
It’s not worth the reading
By persons of breeding –
It’s designed for us vulgar and rude.
On the chest of a barmaid at Yale
Was tattooed the price of each ale
Whilst on her behind
For the sake of the blind
Was precisely the same, but in Braille.
There once was a fellow named Brian
Who was bitten one day by a lion.
He went on the prowl
And he started to growl,
But other than that he’s just fion.
~Mary Volk
There once was a young man from Lyme
Who married three wives at a time
When asked, “Why a third?”
He replied, “One’s absurd,
And bigamy, sir, is a crime!”
Under the spreading chestnut tree
The village smith he sat,
Amusing himself
By abusing himself
And catching the load in his hat.
There was a young lady of Spain
Who took down her pants on a train.
There was a young porter
Saw more than he orter,
And asked her to do it again.
Here are neatly turned odes of small span,
Much concerned with our bodily plan,
And the intercorporeal
Highly sensorial
Love-life of woman and man.