Limerick Springfield

Limerick Springfield 

Time’s not funny, it’s dead pan
Not believing in punchlines so much 
as the perfectly lined-up punch
It sneaks up on everything like a Seijun Suzuki assassin
	sidestepping subtitles
We wake up surrounded by opening credits
and then before we know what happened
the clock Suzuki-cuts, and our 3rd acts have already begun

When I hit this town in the late 90’s
I was a young punk from a small farm village
	a Luke Skywalker in a long-sleeve Han Solo vest
	hung like a Chewbacca
	goofball head shaped like R2D2
	howling like a misunderstood Tuscan Raider
		suddenly realizing 
		that he’s no longer misunderstood

but this isn’t about Star Wars

Last night while I was watching On Golden Pond
I found myself relating to Henry Fonda
more than I did Dabney Coleman's son

but this isn’t about On Golden Pond either

This is about living inside a Lost & Found
when what’s lost is youth and what’s found 
is that you can’t play pickle ball for more than 15 minutes
without fucking up your elbow for the next 11 months

It’s about getting older
Know how I know I’m old now?

I’m going to be a grandfather

That’s right, 28 years ago I got my wiener stuck
inside a nightmare and this perfect daydream popped out
then a couple of months ago my new son-in-law
stuck his wiener in my daydream
and as far as all that goes
you’re all caught up

I don’t feel good about most things
but I feel good about this

So for tonight, being a new Pappy and all
I’ve decided to embrace my old man status
and start writing limericks because that seems like something 
an old person would do

So here it goes:

There once was a snail from a bucket
who mistook a suicide note for his wife 
so he fucked it
How’d you not know that’s not me?
his wife intercedes 
but what do you want me to say Doris?
You’re always miserable lately, and I bumped into 
that suicide note, and I thought shit, look at Doris
she reads like she’s feeling better
so I poured it a glass of wine and we made love
	snail style/we potluck’d it

Hold onto something
	(like my wiener)
because almost nothing rhymes anymore
	     almost nothing ends well

We’re born, some good things happen 
to garnish all the bad
We get fucked, potluck style
Everybody brings a dish

Ok, one more thing about Star Wars

Because the Empire decided to build a military base on his home planet of Bestine IV Porkins didn’t have time to become a grandpa. He had to flee his home world and spent almost all of his youth fighting. He died trying to blow up the Death Star without getting his wiener stuck in something, maybe this isn’t important, but I gotta tell you I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately and consequently, I now watch Star Wars differently

In conclusion, here’s an old quintain from a new old man:


If my dick was a land speeder
and your vagina was Tatooine
Greedo would still be alive right now
and real estate prices in this 
goddamn dessert would thrive