Polygamy ** Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I want to join the folks who keep
a bunch of wives to help them sleep.
If chosen wisely, I suppose
the one with a large-nostrilled nose
would be the chef to feed me well,
another, one with pompous breasts
would serve to entertain the guests,
most men (excepting me) prefer
their boobs stupendous, de rigueur,
thus visitors would feel at ease.
The wife resembling heartsease,
a flower of extreme noblesse
would be my partner, playing chess
and sit on Biedermeier chairs
discussing other folks' affairs.
Then there is she, who often giggles,
and as she walks she truly wiggles,
her eyes downcast like silken sheets
she would not know of poet Keats
but versed she'd be in certain skills
she'd be the keeper of all Dills.
The question soon on my agenda
would be, if all of them are tenda
in dealing with a man like me
they'd all be welcome, after tea
to douse the lights in my huge bed
and sleep together, head to head.
In darkness then, if certain feelings
like urges, also known as healings
come up and penetrate the skin
it would be time to venture in
the territory of sweet dreams
of pheromones and sticky creams.
Alas, who'd pick the lucky sleeper
who'd bring her close to me the reaper?
Would there be strife beneath the sheets
perhaps some clawing of soft teats?
Would there be jealousy and tears
a tally kept to mark arrears?
And, most importantly how would
my little fellow (no one could)
assign those points to match a face
and know which lady was an ace?
I'm tempted to discard the notion
that multiples into devotion
in marriage makes much sense at all,
yes, it is good to have a tall,
a short and round, an apple ass
and one whose Roman cheeks show class
but, is a man with more than one
ahead in life (think of the fun)
or is this all a clever ploy
by Gods to give a boy his toy?

I woke, the dream had my attention,
looked over, made no special mention
viewed the mirage which lay beside
inside my loins, a liquid tide
was building, sanctioned by the brain
Polygamy? Was I insane?
A bit of drool now trickled on
her pillow, as the morning sun
caressed her soft delicious twins
her bellybutton (yes it grins)
was looking with a horny eye
at me, the world's gregarious guy,
the one whose luck was so complete...

I placed my fingers on the sheet
and met her hand into the night
while holding sweetly, holding tight.
A moment's grace lets me assess
and I shall openly confess
that ALL of what my senses knew
was the perfection that is you.