Limericks de Louisiane
by Robert Streeter
What funny things you do at Mardi Gras:
Ride floats in New Iberia,
Catch pies from the moon,
Chase chickens in Mamou.
The drunks you see will make you guffaw.
For those who go to Louisiana,
Please visit Acadiana.
The music keeps you dancing.
Then on to romancing.
You might even meet a Diana.
When entering the city of Rayne,
You’ll pass by some beautiful beau chene.
Look for toads all around.
Even on the ground.
Stepping on one would be a pain.
I once met a man from Monroe.
Who always went with the flow.
Urged on by his wife,
He started throwing knives.
And now he lost his big toe.
I once went down to New Orleans.
I swear just to check out the scenes.
But after one night,
Something wasn’t right.
Where did I leave my blue jeans?
Nothing’s better than a beignet.
Try one. It will make your day.
Down it with chicory.
It’s part of history.
To this combo we say, hooray!
In the morning, walk down Bourbon Street.
See what’s left of an evening’s spree.
If you’re adventurous,
It can be dangerous.
You don’t know if that puddle is pee.
Live it up now in Red Stick.
Downtown is looking so slick.
The capitol is lean.
Hmm, it’s kinda obscene.
Wait, I best not complete this limerick.
Why did I choose to drive in Baton Rouge.
Saturday, in my car I would cruise.
It’s a scene by Giger.
All to see the Tigers.
I have no choice but to sit here and stew.
One should study the laws of nature.
Sloths move very slow like glaciers.
They are known to doze.
And to see them up close,
Check out the state legislature.
I dare you to cross the Calcasieu.
But I’ll bet you’ll tell me to shoo.
The climb is so steep.
It gives you the creeps.
Whatever you do, don’t go Ah-choo.
There’s a city named after a king.
That sits on a lake that blings.
But do not be fooled.
There’s an unwritten rule.
If you touch the lake, something clings.
So much fun is zydeco.
It’s for every Tom, Grace, and schmoe.
The music’s so bright,
You can’t help but to delight.
Jam on all night with all your new breauxs.
They say we’re not Cajun enough.
But I’m here to call that bluff.
We give lots of hugs
And can eat lots of mudbugs.
Truth be told, Shreveport’s really hot stuff.
She wants to be cute and carefree.
She thinks she is better than me.
Loves to play with her hair.
She loves this guy Pierre.
Girl, don’t be Bossier Bougie.
Shreveport has great art thanks to SRAC.
Some of you think it lacks tact.
Keep that thought to your self
Or end up on an ice shelf.
And left there tied up in a sack.
NATCHITOCHES & ZWOLLE
We’re driving to the Light Festival.
I hope night traffic is sensible.
But, heed this warning.
We might get there by morning.
Our progress is by the decimal.
I’ve been to the city of Natchitoches.
It really has a lot of kitsch.
Some homes have no A-C.
They’re stuck in history.
At least the culture is rich.
I bet you think I can’t rhyme Zwolle.
But I go to there to eat a tamale.
Eat ones that are spicy
Even though they are pricy.
I can certainly rhyme by golly!