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© Copyright 1996 & 1999, Jim Loy
My newest Limericks:
If only I could have my choice, Please bring me that lady named Joyce. I promise I'll be good. Wrap her up, if you could. Either her or a brand new Rolls Royce.
Money's the root of all evil. It causes such pain and upheaval. But maybe you've heard, Your pain can be cured. Just mail me your root of all evil.
P.S. That is Jim Loy, 1104 S. Montana, H7, Bozeman, MT 59715.
Note: Rhyming "evil" with "evil" is fairly disgusting. But, I like it here.
To learn from your pet is just fine. But at one thing we do draw the line. When people are meeting, We shun the dog's greeting "Your butt smells real good. How is mine?"
I wanted to write a nice <hic> Poem. But I couldn't think of a <hic> Rhyme. I have this prob- <hic> -lem, with these damned <hic> -ups. So I had to write a limer- <hic>.
Note: This one is murder to read with any decent limerick meter, because of the pause at the beginning of most of the lines. So just read it as something close to a limerick. You can see that I really do know how to rhyme.
There is a grandmother named Connie, Who turns out to be a real honey. Stop right there fool. This poem's not cool, 'Cause "honey" does not rhyme with "Connie."
There is a young woman named Lenny, Who wished that her name could be Jenny. She said, "I won't curse. My name could be worse. It's not Benny, Denny, Kenny, or Henny."
Note: This was a going-away present for Lenny.
An Indian woman, named Brenda, Lists "helping" upon her agenda. She'll cure your worst phobia. She's from Manitobia. If you want to know more, see addenda.
Addenda: She's actually not from Manitobia or even Manitoba. But I love that rhyme.
Erratum: "Addenda" should be "addendum."
There is a young man named Tony. He eats hot dogs, and that's no baloney. His work is real neat, At gallerie, le petite. He stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni?
Note: The le petite gallerie no longer exists.
There is a young man named Kevin. Who lives in Montana (i.e. Heaven). His mother's so proud. He can recite out loud, "One-two-three-four-five-and-six-and-seven."
Note: Kevin no longer lives in Montana.
There is a man named Stephen Forte, Desire of women's hearts and aortae. He makes my back snap, When I feel like crap. So, I guess he's not a bad sort, eh?
Note: This was an original birthday card for Stephen Forte.
A tennis player named Joanne Mallory, Received oohs and ahs from the gallery. I remember one day, She received as her pay, Three oohs and two ahs as her salary.
Note: This was a gift for Joanne, at a tennis banquet. The MC read the poem, and there was a satisfying burst of laughter at the punch line.
Comment: Here is how Limerick meter goes:
(ta) TA-da-da TA-da-da TA (ta) TA-da-da TA-da-da TA (ta) TA-da-da TA (ta) TA-da-da TA (ta) TA-da-da TA-da-da TA.
My limericks do not all conform, in case you didn't notice. Some people have written Limericks in which the last line is always identical to the first line. Those sound pretty dopey. If at all clever, the punch line falls somewhere in the middle of the poem.
This here is a poem.
Who knows what it's for?
Perhaps I can show 'em
That I can do more
Than tell stupid jokes
About trees and Star Trekkers;
And sleep late, and drink Cokes,
And play billiards and checkers.
Also see Good Thing I'm Not A Poet in my Science pages.
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