No Limerick Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

There was a boy from Baltimore
no peers did like his style
perhaps a haemorrhoidal sore
(they also call it pile)
is causing him a lot of pain
and also it may leak
foul excrements that smell and stain
his future looks so bleak.

He goes around and leaves his turds
on neatly cut front lawns
not realising even birds
are tempted just to yawn
when he spits out from either end
his emetocathartic
he will have lost his final friend
just at the point of 'artic' *