Dell were based in Limerick until they scuttled off, so here goes… (apologies to Euterpe, the Muse of Poetry)
Who decided paying wages was Hell
So they went off to Poland
Where they were given a hand
In setting up a low wage factory and their taxes fell
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There was a young poet named Byrne,
who had quite forgotten to learn,
that when writing a rhyme,
for most of the time,
it is useful if the last line actually scans or at least fits the structure of the poem
There was a twitcher named Ben
Who breached Plasher's anonymity and then
Didn't get the McGonagall-style breach of structure which is a central feature of that poet's work.
And anyway, this poetry lark's harder than I realised. I'll stick to teaching it…
There was an anonymous vole,
Libellous limericks one of his roles,
But that Cynical Ben,
said call me twitcher again,
And my 'scope will get shoved up your hole.
There was a birdspotter called Ben
A rotter to all but a wren
Until out on the moors
An albatross ripped off his balls
And carried them off to its den
How can I put it in words,
I'm just a man who likes birds,
I don't twitch, I don't spot,
Don't even go out a lot,
I roll with the geeks not the nerds
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