Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Lord, You May Have Sinned - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Dear Lord, I speak to you tonight
on infrastructure matters,
it seems you did not get it right,
creation is in tatters.
Just viewing from the outside in
it's obvious you fumbled
take me, a nip of Gordon's Gin
my system becomes humbled.
The list I have is very long
it shows the worst conditions,
preventable, don't get me wrong
through erudite decisions.
I know, Lord and invite you to
peruse the words I've written
your prejudice (yes it is true)
extends from here to Britain.
Don't want to use the racist word
though evidence is real
you seem to hit the usual nerd
so what, Lord, is the deal?
Why could you not, I mean way back
apply yourself with patience,
you would have seen what some did lack
you know, through revelations.
But let me touch on just a few
and may I be emphatic,
was there a need for Hong Kong flu
and none for things hepatic?
Specifically, I speak of course
of HMG and cousins,
you seem to show no true remorse
for infarcts by the dozen,
how could you overlook the fact
that lipids plug the river
of blood (that was a clever act)
through failings of the liver? !
Is it your plan for common man
to gradually discover
such things as vitamins and bran
through science-bound palaver?
Well, I accept this, as it does
keep man above the critters,
lets quacks dispense with much pizzazz
their potions and their bitters.
But tell me Lord, you did invent
those terrible cisplatins,
while overlooking (with intent)
the family of statins,
it is, you may not know this yet
the key to live forever,
as long as certain needs are met,
you see, we are quite clever!
We thank thee, God, at least you gave
mankind the means to cover
for errors, negligent and grave
that you, up where you hover
did not think through, a bad faux-pas
you let the couple leave,
the place they called their Shangri-la
yes, Adam and his Eve.
So, all in all, it must be said
man now has found the answers
to keep his mates from dropping dead
from heart attacks and cancers.
As an addendum, may I add
we've recently converted
all farmers (farming is a fad)
so they mount a concerted
and universal effort to
produce the life extender
until at age one-forty-two
folks are returned to sender.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 4, 2008



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