Netherworld Fling Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Netherworld Fling
I sell only pans and big pots
to little old ladies and tots.
It disturbs me to see
that across the big sea
one can have, without cause, the great hots.
So you ask what did trigger this thing
I don't know, it's a voice that will sing.
And at night, in my dreams
I get smothered in creams,
well, it's surely a netherworld fling.
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4/19/2024 12:32:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
