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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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2793.
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The Suffocation Of Mr. Heimlich
A worm who lived inside a leaf
was stolen by a hungry thief.
Inside a lettuce he'd resided
just when the Lord himself decided
that he would make the bumpy journey
into the house of an attorney.
You see, the thief had still more plans
the lawyer had gone to a dance
and in the leisure of the night
he turned the switch of the big light.
While opening the safe with skill
the worm inside the leaf felt ill.
He sensed that this would be the day
that for his thieving he would pay.
And as you know, the worm was too
a parasite, a true filou!
He lived inside a lettuce leaf
and thus, fit the description 'thief'.
When all the riches had been packed
the thief considered that he lacked
the energy to cart away
the takings of this special day.
The kitchen's fridge contained salami,
as well as cheese and hot pastrami.
He grabbed a roll and smothered it
with mayonnaise and just a bit
of mustard from the town Dijon
and then he said, Voilà, and Bon.
He placed the leaf next to the meat
and, hurriedly began to eat.
As you can tell without a doubt,
this criminal was not a Kraut.
He had a mind that lacked precision
and suffered from inferior vision.
That's why he never was aware
of frightened worm eyes and their stare.
Inside the gullet it was tight,
and suddenly the hefty bite
got stuck before it could proceed
quicksmart the worm now took the lead.
He stopped right at the stomach's portal
took out his tools and felt immortal.
He stitched the entrance tightly shut
and then escaped into the gut.
The thief succumbed to suffocation
due to the life-saving creation.
Be this for all of you a guide,
you eat a sandwich? Look inside.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2794.
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The Sunday Incident
I must report an incident that has disturbed
and troubled me, in fact I needed to partake
of two small tablets of diazepam just to pull through.
It was on Sunday, at the crack of one new dawn.
As is the custom in our family, since Bismarck's day,
the captain of the ship is privileged to be the first
to plop his gluteals onto the seat of seashell novelty,
while looking through the pages of the weekend rag
to gain true incidental courage, meaning to distract
and thus allow a gentle peristalsis to take hold
all with the goal of slow and thorough evacuation.
This was a Sunday like the rest of them, a trifle sad
due to the fact that ugly Monday would not be too far.
However, it had been arranged (perhaps ordained)
by higher beings in advance, reasons quite unknown
the lever, made of shiny leightweight alloy and attached
to a convenient spot right near the cistern's upper edge,
this trusted lever marked Caroma, it had failed to work!
No torrents of a navy blue deluge would take away
the proceeds of largely digested meals of recent days.
They sat, some floating, some still in explorer mode
refusing to go on to meet their home and final destiny.
I'd always looked at them, the moment of departure
when suddenly an unexpected but by now familiar force
would turn this placid little lake into a circulating undertow,
relentlessly like phagocytes gone mad, engulfing all
accompanied by howls of porcelain winds and sonic baritone.
I fiddled as you all would have, a schedule did await
and youngish voices were intent to form a noisy queue,
though we observe a proper pecking order on all days.
The fiddling had imparted a small twist and then, a finger's tap
brought instant action and functional relief, here comes the flush,
I mumbled it, more to myself than to the travelling mass.
There was a burst inside my cranial vault, of purplish dopamine
which triggered quickly the appropriate response, it was of joy.
But the excitement saw my eyes stray from the blue
thus missing the fanfare of my usual view-the-loo, do you?
At last I left the melancholy place to drown my sorrow
under that silly water-saving ninety dollar showerhead.
I realized, in a most painful moment of a forced-upon futility
that they were gone for good and I had missed the chance
the only one to ever seal the bond and utter my good-byes.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2795.
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The Swim
Under a starlit sky,
he watched her strip,
then test the water
with a foot so white
it seemed to be of chalk.
Then she was gone
and reappeared, her locks
pressed tightly to her skull,
he saw the flicker of her eyes
and then there was a second moon,
she swam, breaststroke, away,
a thought about the rocket came
two moonlit cheeks would stay
inside his mind's two eyes.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2796.
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The Tallest Poppy
America, you have the weird
pot-smoking ones, those with a beard.
They wear the swastika with pride
take their own boneheads for a ride.
It is an illness you must fight
inalienable is your right.
As with the devil you debate
you know what makes your country great.
Star-spangled banner on your blouse
and keeping clean the nation's house.
And do ignore the envy's frown
don't let them pull this poppy down.
Herbert Nehrlich
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