Tag Archives: Worcester



FM Ninety-ty-one-point thre,

Radio for the community*…

Needs new blood,

Broadcaxsters who would

Be willing for almost free.

A programmer’s license had

Or can be trained (which isn’t that bad)..

Community informed–

The radio seat warmed–

Opportunity here can be had!

That WCUW call line

Used to be a Clark University  find..

Independent the station went

The community to represent,

It’s continued all this time!

–Jonathan Caswell

*Clark University…once a project of.  The authored volunteered–worked with a programmer–for 7 or so years.  The station serves the City of Worcester, MA, U.S.A.

THE STATION PHONE IS: (U.S.A.) 508-753-2284…if interested !



I submitted limericks to THE PENTATETTE** for several years. These are just a few.

It’s raining and snowing together,

The perfect Worcester (Mass.) weather…

But here’s the trick,

It better not stick

With cars driving hell-for-leather!


Blogging of a starlet’s spiral

Downwardly took off viral…

What is stank,

She laughs to the bank

Not caring her story’s hirel.


I once had red hair you see,

But grey, black and bald’s left to me…

My prejudice arose

‘Gainst the men I suppose,

Because anger for me was easy!


In October his Mom died of cancer,

After all this time there’s no answer…

Why he’s not cried

But deep inside

The issue takes more than a glance, sir.


He once knew a family from Douglas

Whose home was practically bug-less…

They sprayed lots of mist

With chemical fist,

Poisoned the dog and went pugless!


**THE PENTATETTE is an on-line and printed newsletter specifically for limericks.  See http://www.limericks.org for details.




It sounds like a foolish refrain,

But I actually saw a train…

At North Uxbridge crossing

It was so engrossing*

I wanted to see it again!

Coming back the other way,

I saw that train had stayed…

Didn’t stop to inquire

What had transpired,

It was in Worcester later that day.

–Jonathan Caswell

* crossing…engrossing…an example of rhyming by spelling–even if they sound differently.  Same literary device used by train…refrain…again.



How is it that as we speak,

There’s a sudden ice melt leak…

No salt in Worcester*

To pass roadway muster,

These hills have climbing mystique.

At home the same is true,

Back-ordered stuff hasn’t come through…

Hall buckets are shorted

And folks have resorted

To getting their own supply, too.

Is this a coincidence,

It would be a conspiracy immense…

Me thinks in due courses

Normal market forces

Will put supply back in present tense.

–Jonathan Caswell

* “Wuh-stah”



(Sing to “The Yellow Rose of Texas…” if you want!)


Oh, the snow accumulation

Is lesser up north,

Not a normal situation

When snow sallies forth…

This one came in from the south

And started early,

Where Worcester has about one inch

In Douglas, over three!

Snow fairies must be dancing

Hard in winter swirls,

Longer in the southern

Woods like dancing-girls…

We started plowing earlier

Out in the sticks,

But up north in Worcester

The plow’s called in for six.


–Jonathan Caswell





I see it on the highway

While driving home from town….

At two in the morning,

One window shining down.

A big brick building next to

A green GUINNESS* sign…

With a leaping Polish dancer

Painted “GOLEMO FOODS” so fine!

It’s in the Canal District

Of good Worcester** town…

This  building is lit up at night,

Proudly in its renown.

Westbound on I-290,

One drives right by it…

Generally for most of the year

Only one window is lit.

Then sometime in November

Of two thousand-thirteen…

A few more windows were left lit,

In the early morning scene.

Can only think that things revved up

For celebration time…

More “late night oil” properly spent,

To avoid being understocked–a crime!

GOLEMO FOODS are properly known

As being the best of the best…

In the busy season,

Quality knows no rest!


–Jonathan Caswell

* GUINNESS is the internationally famous dark beer, sold in that neighborhood at an Irish pub whose advertising sign includes a large green Irish hat for a billboard.

** “Worcester (Massachusetts, in the northeast U.S.A.)” is pronounced either “WUH-ster”  or sometimes “WISS-ster”  in this neck of the woods.  Hence, although the word “Worcester” has three apparent syllables, it is in fact pronounced with only two…keeping the poem’s rhythm intact.   (Phone operators, telemarketers and anybody else from outside this area invariably screw up the pronounciation!  :). )




At about eleven PM

Eastern Standard Time…

Our rain turned into snow,

A slippery, slushy rime.

Worcester, Mass., is getting

What was promised all along…

What was originally wetting,

Turns into a Christmas song.

The flakes are getting bigger

As I monitor CCTV…

My relief is coming, I’ll go on my round

And I hope that is safe for me…?


–Jonathan Caswell