Limericks are Still Legal, So Far

Back in the halcyon days of the Montana Logging and Ballet Company — well, okay, the pedestrian days of the MLBC — Steve Garnaas-Holmes wrote all of our songs and much of our political satire. Now that he no longer has that creative outlet, he muddles through by preaching in his United Methodist Church in Acton, Massachusetts, and writing a daily spiritual blog (Unfolding Light<unfoldinglight@gmail.com>) which has thousands of followers. His blog is usually poetry, sometimes verging on the mystical, and often deeply moving.

He hasn’t lost his MLBC satirical bent, however, as shown by these limericks I stole from his Facebook. Don’t ask me how. I’m not on Facebook myself.

Daredevils that make our hearts pump?
Or horses that gallop and jump?
No, the circus in town’s
Just incompetent clowns:
It’s Barnum and Bailey and Trump.

Every Freudian shrink understands
That the size of the bomb Trump commands
Is the ego at play
Of a man who will slay
To show us the size of his “hands.”

A traveling man was excited
To start on his trip with United.
He was dragged off his flight–
What a horrible sight–
But his luggage was all expedited!

The president met at a diner
To make deals with the leader of China
It was such a success
He came home with no less
Than, um, well, a pair of chopsticks.

Checking Russia out makes Trump get sore,
“Cause he hopes we won’t look any more.
For the news-minded faction
He’ll try a distraction:
“Hey, look guys: I started a war!”

You have to admit, those are their own sort of Zen understanding of our present reality or rather unreality. I got so excited that I tried my hand at the limerick, which is the sincerest form of mockery available to the amateur.

Ms. Kellyanne Conway just said,
“I’m so lucky that I am not dead.”
To prepare for her selfie,
She reached for the shelf, the
Big microwave dropped on her head.

Okay, you see why Steve did most of the writing for us.

About admin

Rusty Harper is outrageously happy because he is retired and living with the love of his life, Pat Callbeck Harper in Helena, Montana. So why does he inflict these ramblings on the rest of us, you ask? Because you deserve it. If you aren't smart enough not to read this stuff, then you have to suffer through it. Maybe that builds character, though I doubt it. Think of all the positive things you could do with the time you are wasting on things that occur to me in the night and then sound strange even to me when I write them down in the morning. Bake a cake. Complain to your Senator. Run for Congress. Do something.
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