A Bone To Pick Poem by Ima Ryma

Some jerk did jerk this herring out
Of my water life to land death.
The jerk cared not at all no doubt,
Out of water I'm out of breath.
The jerk did take me to a house.
Onto a table I was thrown,
And then deboned by this jerk louse.
The table cloth had pattern shown
Of herringbone, a style to match
The pattern of my skeleton.
I soon got fried as Friday catch,
Then eating of me was begun.

This herring is happy to note
A bone got stuck in this jerk's throat.