National Poetry Month, Day 7

I’ve lived in Bellingham for about two and a half years now. Since that time my Seattle friends and I have stayed in relatively good contact, though my presence has seriously dropped off of late. It’s not the distance – 85-ish miles is really nothing – but rather my work schedule. I work weekends, and they all have normal people jobs.

Anyway, we often run e-mail threads with each other throughout the day to keep ourselves entertained. I hadn’t gotten one in a while, but today this limerick showed up in a thread:

There once was a guy named Choppy

Who no one could ever copy

But he lives in the shire

And cooks with a fryer

Where the fuck is Chazz Hoppe

Clearly I had to respond with something, so this is what we’re going with today:

Jake Edens, I’m terribly sorry,

but your rhymes are played out like Atari.

‘Til you learn how to spell

my first name (what the hell?)

I’ll stick with the Mon Calamari.

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