A friend of mine told me recently that when he thinks poem, he thinks of: There once was a man from Nantucket. Well I decided to help him out a little.
--
There once was a man from Nantucket
Who had to fetch all his water in a bucket
The road to the river was a hell of a long ways
And he had to do this for most of his days
--
Then he decided that he can’t do this no more
No one appreciates me doing this hard chore
He decided to have a sex change into a woman
Then she went out and got married again
--
Now her new husband does all the hard work
She just stays at home and cooks him some pork
She’s happier now with things and life is all set
Because there once was a man from Nantucket
--
