Poetic training wheels

Just farted this shiny little limerick* out
during a meeting a few minutes ago:


If Stu's muse chews blue shoes, may Stu choose the shoes he eschews?
Then what shall we do when Stu chooses to screw Lu's two Jews?
We peruse.
Or rather, how many screws could the Charlstons chew if the Charleston Chews got screwed?
Rolling red wagons.
Downhill.
Shit, I forgot my earmuffs.

Yeah, you're welcome.


*Not an actual limerick.