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Two Brothers Exchanging Postcards, or Limericks in the Key of R

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to my older brother

There once was an asshole from Tampa
Who liked to pretend to be Santa
But his only interest
Was eating up citrus
So he couldn't have fooled his own Grandpa

Love, R

to Chibisuke

But recall now a pipsqueak from Hatsville
Who thought that, at tennis, he had skill
I'd never have thunk
By his own serve he'd be sunk!
And lose several teeth from his front grill.

Love, R

Fuck you, asshole

I'll show you where you can stick it
And perhaps even buy you a ticket
To a place you know well
That I like to call "Hell"
With your own violin-playing cricket

Love, R

Ran into trouble rhyming "stick it", huh Chibisuke?

Long before Dad got his green card
I heard worse than that in the school yard
So count down from ten
And try it again
I promise you, pipsqueak, it ain't hard.

Love, R

No, shut up. I hate poetry. Don't write back. Love, R.

I win again, Chibisuke.