What a Ham

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My brother’s always such a ham.
That’s my biggest beef.
His puns are all so cheesy
and he will not lettuce leaf.

His gags are somewhat onionique.
They make us want to cry.
They’re often sort of corny,
and they’re never all that rye.

And even if we’re chili,
in thyme he’ll find a reason
to pepper us with salty jokes
no matter what the season.

I mustard up the courage
to dessert one afternoon.
He lightly toasted me and said,
“I’ll ketchup with you soon.”

But now I’m in a pickle.
See, a nickel’s all I’ve got.
He says his jokes are ten cents each.
I mayo him a lot.