Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Limericks *************** - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

In their winter of discontent,
he would sleep on the lawn in a tent
while the lady received
a most rubbery sleeved
little plug, and it wasn't a stent.

From New Jersey she hailed, the au-pair,
trained and good at the proper childcare.
As she slept in the nude
her new boss would conclude
that both nostrils and labia can flare.

She was young and exceedingly chaste,
and Lord Jim had thought, 'what a big waste.'
She: 'Go kiss my sweet hatch
it's all pink near the thatch, '
He: 'Screw grammar, I'll go for the taste.'

In the back of the church, during mass,
were the janitor and a young lass.
They used rubbing and spittle
and perspired a little.
In the end they had polished all brass.

Mister Sheen was a man who was shiny,
since he lived in a tube he was tiny.
Even smaller as such
which means not very much,
was his shiny, but too tiny Heini.

Said the elephant 'If you can climb,
I will give you a bit of my time.
You won't likely get stuck
and a mouse pin brings luck,
interracial is no more a crime.'

'Twas the night when the stork took a turn,
he'd been scheduled to visit Young Vern.
With his SAT on the blink
he drove into the drink
and they covered the kid with some fern.

Presidential is not what he is,
and in matters of state not a wiz,
if you add in his age
you can tear out the page,
watch the weary old soldierboy fizz.

I don't see how the Yanks will elect
a new Prez with a pigment defect.
Though it's often been said
that all racists are dead,
it's intolerance that I detect.

As a salesman of telephones
he would throw in some clever ringtones,
When a blonde rang his bell
he perceived a strange smell,
but it wasn't her pheromones.

Said Tusnelda this life isn't fair.
I had hoped for a bum like a pear.
And to make matters worse
I am writing this verse
while I'm flossing with red pubic hair.

Sir Sylvester said to his new bride,
'Let us have an erotic-type ride, '
though each ride was quite wild,
when she came down with child
the LIVE shell had been shot from the side.

Said Diogenes 'What a cute bum!
You can see that I live in a drum,
would you please crawl inside,
we will go for a ride...'
she said 'No Sir, I really can't cum.'

In the settlement of the divorce,
she got nothing and he got the horse.
She became a great nun,
kindly pardon the pun:
He continued to ride her, of course.

In the summer of forty-four,
Mamma Mia had purchased the store.
She had slaved there for years
with most bills in arrears,
until she could do it no more.


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Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken



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Poem Submitted: Sunday, July 13, 2008



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