Entre'ma'neur Poem by Ima Ryma

I opened up a paddle store
Right next to a smelly creek that
Stranded the floaters more and more
In the watery habitat.
Many went up this creek without
A paddle and found themselves stuck.
So my high priced paddles no doubt
Get sold for the upcoming muck,
When nasty tales float back down creek,
Of how paddleless faced dire woe,
Finding themselves caught in such reek
On a not so merry round go.

I pitch my paddles with appeal
For the up the reek creek oar deal.