I’ve written some limericks before,
And admit their reception was poor,
But, that notwithstanding,
They’re so undemanding
I’m entitled to do a few more.

The format owes much to E. Lear.
Epileptic, lonesome and queer,
The Englishman fled
To the warmth of the Med,
And churned them out year after year.

Re-reading Lear’s ditties today,
They seem so insipid and fey.
The modern consumer
Wants rude, shouty humour
To keep clinical depression at bay:

“There was an old woman from Mwnt
Who caused quite a major affront…”
Is one way to contrive,
At the end of line five,
A vulgar pay-off like…I shouldn’t!

No, it’s puerile and needless,
Gratuitous and heedless.
Cut out the crap,
Ditch the cheap pap
And try hard to smoke weed less!

An unhappy tosser from Suffolk
Craved phallus deep inside his buttock.
Once he picked up a hunk
But his high hopes were sunk –
She was a transitioning eunuch!

Yep, ‘humour’ is only a gesture
To signal the light-hearted nature
And rounded persona
Of a harmless old stoner –
What a patently phoney posture!

Instead, I shall appeal to the cerebrum,
Using tones of gentility and decorum,
Though such multi-syllabics
Wreck scansion of Lim’ricks,
And uncannily still lead to “bum”!