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On the isle of Limrikkios, a distinctive form of Pentalinear poetry was all the rage in the old days. Sadly, this form died out with the advent of populous poetry, spearheaded by that GASBAG Homer.

"Epics" he called them. Droned on for hours he did. Why, that man never knew when to shut up. I could hardly get a word in edgewise. By the Gods, the affair at Troy never lasted half as long as one of his orations.

And that nasal whine of his! Don't get me started about that dreadful nasal whine.....

An Ode to the Obtuse

A cute angle was drawn by Isosceles
"Itís too sharp," exclaimed Eurippides
"My poor derriere
Itís exposed to the air
Ah Eureka, the tailor, Eumendades"

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Rome: The Power & The Glory

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