Tits Tits Tits – Why I’m Boycotting Facebook Today

Don’t worry – we’ll get to poetry in a sec; but first I want to explain why I’m boycotting Facebook.  It’s because of their policy on breastfeeding: yes, like a lot of people Facebook has a gigantic double-standard (a double-D standard, perhaps) when it comes to breasts.  Tits are OK when shown as – er – titillation; you can show a woman with cleavage as often as you like, so long as you don’t display a nipple.  But a woman breastfeeding???  Gasps of horror!  The sensitivities of the populace will be outraged!!!  Civilisation will collapse!!!  People will be – well, offended!!!

Bollocks.  I could go on and on about the issues here, but I’ll save it for Wednesday.  Because, today being Monday, we are on the theme of poetry and in response to a reader comment I am considering the question: Can limericks ever be serious?

Can limericks ever be serious?

Would gravitas be deleterious?

Does the form not depend

on a comedic end?

Would anything sober not weary us?


I am interested in the question because I have written a number of limerick series which kind of flirt with the form and verge on the serious: in fact I am interested altogether in the boundaries between the serious and the comic and how far they can be breached.  Here’s part of a limerick series I wrote about the changing reputation of D H Lawrence:

Lawrence Limericks

They don’t give a fig about Lawrence

now sex is cascading in torrents

it’s hard now to credit

that folk who’d not read it

once looked on his work with abhorrence!


They don’t give a damn about Dave

the Messiah who came up to save

our bodies from virtue

– that bodice can hurt you –

but now he just spins in his grave


So, can limericks ever be serious?  Answers below please – and preferably in limerick form…

Kirk out