A Website Of Age And Decay Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Her photo did not flatter.
Even the casual observer,
the one without an interest
in any of life's offerings
would see the blemish; eyes
as dead as ancient stones,
a dullard's pebbles, stuck
perpetually inside a stump,
but what they all observed,
while shrugging, at a loss
for words and body signs,
no contact would be made
it was the teeth, one could,
with some precision take
a whiff of halitosis, sure
there were the potions for,
and they did work a tiny bit
until one turned one's face,
then to return, a toxic huff.

Words fell from deep within
into a quite reluctant world.
You'd think, so said the bum
leaning against the pissoir,
that she would choose with care,
perhaps a real Tie would serve
to take the lead and fool the fans?