Herbert Nehrlich Poems

You couldn't know it:
It was your very last.
It tasted just like Amarone should.
And, had you known
...

She came into the room,
flaunting, she said, but then,
I do not know what it would be,
that she could use. She grunted,
...

I was born to be me.
Perhaps not to be free.
But to live as another
after knowing my mother
...

It was the velvet, after all.
Not that bony ass of yours,
though I was o'r the moon,
as you would know and did.
...

It was a scary, bumpy ride.
The driver wore a uniform,
They raced with purpose through the night,
through lightning strikes and thunderstorm.
...

I'm swinging from my appletree
and feel like a gorilla.
My arms are short but I can be
the image of Godzilla.
...

The postman rang,
not once but twice,
his Irish Twang
sounds pretty nice,
...

I've always been a man who treasures black and white.
One either is still breating or one must be dead,
all cats are gray due to the colour of the darkest night
so black and white is king and that is what I said.
...

There once was a lady of means,
she was thrown out of New Orleans.
Had no money nor skills
and a need for green pills
...

I was thinking of calling her Emmy
but my wife of three decades won't lemmie
she is jealous of her
when she catches her purr
...