There once was an ant named Balu
Who constructed his anthill with glue
The sand wouldn't stay
With glue, though, it may
It was all that he knew how to do.
There once was a bird named Eli
Who thought he forgot how to fly
He fell from a tree
To escape from a bee
And remembered before he could die.
There once was a sailing chipmunk
Who was, simply, in a word, punk
He set to the seas
In a violent breeze
And before he did know it he sunk.
I love writing limericks. They're an irish poem with a lilting, fun kind of rhythm. They're usually nonsensical. It seems difficult to think of something at first, but just throw something stupid out, because they're really short. They're pretty easy to get into. I like them a lot.
This isn't about limericks, but today at school we went to see an art show. The artist had an array of highly detailed, realistically colored roadkill.
It was possibly the most WEIRDEST thing I've ever seen.
The guide person was all, like, "How do you feel when you look at this? What do you think the artist meant to show through these paintings?"
What did he want to show? Maybe the traffic's heavy between Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I guess it takes all types to make the world go 'round.
The Exquisite Charms of David Garneau.