There once was a poet named Janiel
Who couldn’t rhyme with appeal
“As a poet,” she said,
“I’m legally dead.”
So she quit and went to Ireland, because, like, it’s gorgeous.
I mean, wouldn’t you? Check it out:
Most of our Halloween traditions came from the Emerald Isle – along with several hundred thousand Irish immigrants. Also a great love of potatoes, colcannon, soda bread, and corned beef. Not to mention Leprechauns and Artemis Fowl. Seriously. I am starting a new campaign. It’s called: “I’m Going To Ireland If It Killarney’s Me.” (get it? get it?)
Feel free to contribute. I repay in poetry.
(Note: The thinly veiled references to poetry in this post have to do with the under appreciated yet mostly brilliant and nearly publishable poem in my last post. And the vast abilities which allowed me to create it. And my full intention to continue writing poetry. Maybe. But going to Ireland is a for-sure.)
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