Oh, fish, you wet and slip’ry folk,
The butt of every smelly joke,
Of small or monolithic size,
You look so good . . . next to my fries.
And now, the jokes I spoke about,
Through all my grandkids, I did scout.
Some downright finny, some, so-so,
If you find better, let minnow.
A seahorse moves from cave to cave?
He scallops through the billowing wave!
The Tsar’s best fish to eat at court?
Tsardines! They’d serve them by the quart!
A fish of large and ancient mein,
Makes threat’ning gestures at your spleen,
And gives an offer you can’t slight?
The Codfather. Look out tonight!
Where’s the sad and smelly lout,
The octopus that’s down and out?
Well, he’s (Oh, you must be aware),
On Squid Row. In a burrow there!
What’s a fish that has no eyes?
A fsh! Now that should not surprise.
A nutella spread on salmon called?
Why salmonella. (Be appalled!)
One more, and then I’ll let you be . . .
There’s two fish swimming in the sea,
Into a wall, they headfirst ram,
One says unto the other, “Dam!”