Ed Calkins: The Beat Goes On

Dear MOMI,

What have I done!

I've started a story that will take four thousand years to complete and has to be told in limerick form.

More then that, the characters keep stealing my pen.

Who'd have thought Glorna would be such a punk, Ed Calkins so twisted, and a vegan gator such a bully.

None of this was my idea, but here is the third in my nameless epic limerick.

THE POET DATES THE TIME WHILE WHINING HIS STORY IS TOO HARD TO WRITE

By now It was now clear as clear can be

That both Glorna and Ed were in two thousand BC

And their gator companion made three

Now, I must be out of my tree

For thinking this telling would easy be

THE MISFIT THREE BRING WOOD FOR CARVING TO THE SHIP THEY HOPE TO SET PASSAGE BACK TO ENGLAND FROM, EVEN THOUGH THEY WILL BE FOUR THOUSAND YEARS TOO EARLY TO RETURN TO WHERE DENISE LET THEM DIE.

While the brave captain was in O’s dwelling

The three carried to the ship that was smelling

Wood removed for the dead tree

To be carved for the sailors to see

The wives that the threesome were selling

And since none of the three could carve wood

The silly steward asked if the crew would

Carve the women he described

By the stories he prescribed

And the figures’ figures that would have to be good.

ED CALKINS PITCHES HIS "WIVES," WHICH ARE OBVIOUSLY WOMEN HE NEVER MET

“First a queen with a fetish for being rolled into rugs

Cleopatra of the future Egyptian thugs

And if you meet her it would please her,

If you call yourself Julia Caesar.

Then she just might give you a few hugs.”

“Then the mystical goddess, Aphrodite

Should be married to one high and mighty

But for a limited time, what the heck

her for a place on your deck.

Just image how she looks in a nighty.”

Then there’s this Boudica the Celtic queen

With a reputation of being quite mean

But if you watch right the omens

She doesn’t like the Greeks or the Romans

But for young sailors she makes quite a scene

“Maybe horses and nude women is your guilty pleasure.

Might I suggest that Lady Godiva is your treasure

The long-haired mystique that attracts is

Her method of protesting taxes.

By riding naked through Coventry for good measure”

“There’s another that I think you should know

The whole world will call her Marilyn Monroe

She will famously flirt

Wind will hike up her shirt

This blond bombshell will make your heart go."

“Dolly Parton known for her voice and platinum blond hair

And chest you’d wish you could bare

And her homey southern charm,

Why she’d be worth the whole farm

But for passage to Ireland is quite overly fair”

THE CREWS' CARVINGS OF ED WIVES WERE QUITE GOOD

As Ed pitched, the figures carved by the crew

Made each statuette looking life like and true

Down to the smallest detail

You’d have thought any male

Would be a knickknack collector of new

THE FIRST MATE WANTS A REAL WOMAN

Said the first mate, “Look here is the deal

We’d consider you offer a steal

And take only one wife not six

If you offer us this in the mix

Make only one of the statuettes real

ED DOESN'T BELIEVE THEY WANT REAL WIVES. HE UPS THE OFFER BY THROWING IN DENISE'S ADOPTED IRISH NIECE (WITHOUT KNOWING IF THERE IS SUCH A NIECE)

Now Ed replied to the men of the sea,

“If your wives were your own cup of tea,

You’d sailed were they are

Instead of from them so far

You’re just haggling for a larger fee.”

Replied the first mate. “This is way out of hand

It’s my own wedding that chase me from land

You’d leave too if you met her

But if you can do no better

Well then you can just stay here on the sand.”

“Want a wife that make you immortal as I?

Greatness and novels are an over told lie

Well you can’t have Denise

But I throw in her adopted Irish niece

Gees you’re making this bid over high”

It was then that the second mate spoke

Sounding as if he was making a joke

“It’s starvation not tall tales we’re cursed

 And of wives that won’t be, we had worse

But we have room for a gator, wood sprite and bloke.

THE FIRST MATE WANTS MORE WIVES, FEARING MURDER IF THERE AREN'T ENOUGH WIVES TO GO AROUND

The first mate’s rage made his face turn quite blue

Shouting, ‘men you just don’t have a clue

With too few wives, I know what would happen

When seven women, eight men and the captain

Fight to the death over who marries who

THE SECOND MATE WANTS MORE WIVES ADDED TO THE OFFER

Said the second, “I’d feel peace inside

He knows of many wives If he hasn’t lied

How about this new deal

A new wife every meal

Means every third day I get a new bride.”

ED SUGGESTS THAT EACH MAN COULD HAVE EVERY WIFE WITHOUT INCITING JEALOUS RAGE BECAUSE THESE WIVES EXIST ONLY IN THE IMAGINATION. STILL, HE DOES UP THE OFFER

“I well know that prenuptial infatuation

Can cause war against nation to nation

Its this way, I call

Each should marry all

There is privacy in one’s own imagination”

“So what I can’t do,” the steward did say

“Is supply three brand new women each day

So one bride per day it will be

for room and broad for us three

Hell, I can give my whole stock away.”

THE THREE ARE ABOARD BY THE TIME THE CAPTAIN RETURNS

By the time O’ Winfree came back in to the picture

With his own plan to add to the mixture

Asleep, but with smile his crew wore

Were as impoverished as before

But each counted themselves seven wives richer

GLORNA SENSES A TRAP

Whispered Glorna to Ed, “This is sleazy.

The fear in my stomach make me wheezy.

We gave words not real women

Some kind of web, they’d be spinnin’

They let us aboard way too easy.

ED'S MORE WORRIED ABOUT BED BUGS

Ed says, “Bed you should dread not the deal

Most men only want women who aren’t real

And to combat the confusion

I recommend self-delusion.

Which is no help for the bite of bed bugs you’ll feel."

To be dragged on even further….


Ruthlessly yours,

Ed Calkins

Steward of Tara