I don’t write them very often — the one I
like best I posted here in 2005. But Garrison Keeler was on
the radio yesterday, and he pointed out that when he discovers a
rhyme it makes his brain light up and he needs to do something
with it, and I realized I used to be that way but I let it lapse.
So I swore that the next time I discovered a rhyme, I would write
a limerick. So I noticed one walking the dog this morning and
here’s the limerick:
Priscilla, a grey furry rat, Had friends who thought she was too fat. So she ran down the street And tripped over her feet And ended up totally flat.
Flat and rat isn’t a great rhyme like the ones Ira Gershwin and
Cole Porter used, but limericks don’t need a lot more than that.
I had rat and fat and street and feet by the time I got home.
My first reaction to the flat rat on Cherry Street was,
“Another flat squirrel!” because we’d seen one of those on Windsor
Street last night, but then I noticed the tail, and then I had the