1-21 Limericks

Essentially, a grouping of wordplay.

 

Dark “Matter?” Dark Mind ?

 

As galaxies outwardly swing,

The “mystery mass” is the thing:

They thought it was gravity

But All is a cavity—

So Physics was left holding strings.

 

 

The Lunatic’s Limerick

 

It’s lunacy to be orthodox.

Utter foolishness, God’s paradox!

God nailed on a beam?

His unique regime?

A bare tomb is our life’s equinox?

 

Sagacity Rebuked

 

He thought his poems buoyant and zephyrous.

The editor’s note was obstreperous:

“Your zealous hyperbole,

Disportionality,

Has made your consistency leprous.”

 

 

Not Plato’s Cave

 

I am not an aging curmudgeon—

Sidestep blurting out wordy bludgeons.

Yet being too adamant,

She said “You’re recalcitrant.”

(I moped all night in my man-cave dungeon.)

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