Hogg Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Hogg
I wonder if this resident wears pink,
a pig he is, not made by God to think.
His writing is below what they call plain
it causes little pleasure but some pain.
Perhaps some lipstick would increase his status,
though nothing much will emanate but flatus.
A hog of any other name is still a hogg,
the brains of porkers and the presence of a log.
Wow, its a powerful piece. Quite insulting though and the idea of pigs and repulsiveness has been done before. But I still like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:06:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I gave poor Herbert a hard time in days of yore. He wasn't strong on subtlety. RIP mister.