Herbert Nehrlich Poems

We'd gone there to share,
at La Ville des Lumière
many proper French kisses.
But the first ones were misses,
...

She was old. Going on 97.
Said she couldn't, for reasons unknown
sleep the night through. Been like that
for yonks, but worse now since the democrats
...

A poem is when it is born
a trifle like a unicorn.
It hovers in its growing stage
displays, perhaps a bit of rage
...

Considered a delicious catch
the girl went to the football match.
She dreamed of having ten big babies
she itched, it was a case of scabies.
...

I am a private person
when it comes to cars.
I pick her up through liberation
from the merchant crook
...

It is his mother,
holding a sweaty hand,
and trying to, again
look into his blue eyes,
...

The planes had hit.
And, half asleep
I waited for King Kong
to manifest himself
...

Frank was the one who always would
be first and do wild things
and when you asked him if he could
fly with the bird that sings
...

It was so fulminating.
A fire burned within
from spindly kindling
and a breath of air
...

And as she touched the envelope
her facial features quickly froze.
At last she uttered 'No. No hope',
it was a contact that arose
...