There once was a writer from Manhattan
Who wrote all his novels in Latin.
A dead language, he said,
Makes them appear well read.
But for his wallet it did nothing to fatten.
There once was a writer from Manhattan
Who wrote all his novels in Latin.
A dead language, he said,
Makes them appear well read.
But for his wallet it did nothing to fatten.
Filed under 2020, Monday morning writing joke
Tagged as David E. Booker, dead language, joke, Latin, limerick, Manhattan, Monday, writing humor