Fished Out
There once was a guy with a trick:
the Florida Man limerick.
But when he got rowing,
the verses stopped flowing
or maybe ‘cuz his wife was sick.
It’s nothing but crickets of late,
and those that he musters ain’t great.
The hooks are sporadic
as fresh-water haddock;
perhaps he should try some new bait.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
