A Bowler from West of El Paso . . .

When friend and sports columnist Jeff Crowley invited readers to submit bowling limericks for publication, I put my “pen to the pins.” Some of my ideas were published, some were not. (Jeff’s editor flagged one for an earthy, albeit humorous, rhyme for “lasso.”)

A kegler from Kalamazoo
Traded his smokes for a chew.
He keeps the air nice
With no trace of his vice—
Except for a little “spittoo.”

An enlightened bowler named Sykes
Puts war atop all his dislikes.
He’s never gained fame
On the strength of his game,
But he’s known for a few hunger strikes.

A tech-savvy bowler named Bess
Takes aim with a new GPS.
Each fine-tuned equation
For triangulation
Is Bess’s address for success.

Frankenstein made his team shudder,
To hear him so casually utter:
“When I roll my brain,
I play straight down the lane.
It keeps my mind out of the gutter.”

A bowler from west of El Paso
Threw strike after strike with his lasso.
But once, when he tripped,
His trusty rope slipped,
And the ball hit him right in the “asso.”

What do you think?