For Jerry Hughes Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I did, mein Herr,
stick up two fingers,
they had been treated
as you had asked
by deep immersion
into blacked-out crypts.

However, only flies
and one fluorescent bumblebee
showed any interest
in aromatic air.

Well, never mind, I say
let trash drift with the winds
it may be carried off
by friendly ghosts,
those cousins to our great
and wise Godfather Penderyn.

It's always wise to trust your blood
and when we next partake
of precious times together,
we'll toast our crystal glasses,
and know within our hearts
that we are living children of
a loving, common mother.