Bad Poetry Day No. 2

As warned, I offer you another installment in my Bad Poetry collection.

This one was first written when I was in high school in relation to "The Canterbury Tales." I love that work and just re-read it a year or so ago. Still love it.

I first wrote a dirty little ditty about a man heading to Canterbury to amuse my friends. They weren't amused, but the juvenile work eventually evolved into this sophomoric poem. I'll include the limerick at the end of this entry, so if you're easily offended, stop at the first poem. That should offer enough offense for most folks.

The poem is a loose sonnet, inspired, if I recall, by Shakespeare's sonnets. I never much liked his plays, but felt a need to know them so I could drop lines in party conversation and people would think I was literate. The sonnets are the jewels in the crown.

Canterbury Trails

There once was a man from Canterbury
Who traveled far ahead of Chaucer’s tale
And was called Sir Accolade, titularly,
By the ladies he would often unveil.

He owned no horse, nor in cab did he ride,
But crossed the Isle on foot as pilgrims do
To find the church where Tom a’Becket died
And restore depleted cross its thew.

A weary immigrant he would close confide,
In the fairer sex he would dare entreat
His misfortunes of fictitious betide
Until his stomach grew happily replete.

He then donned coat, took smooth walking cane,
To disassemble his legerdemain.

* More offensive alert *

And here's the dirty little one that started it all:

There once was a man from Canterbury
Whose penis was dark and hairy.
He used to hang it out
And the girls would shout,
"My! That's handsome very!"

Thought: If the play's the thing, why didn't he hang that out?