Methylated Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

He was a methyl donour, she the receiver,
nothing beats chemistry, it's got a clever twist,
they found a double-bond that plunged them into fever
then came convulsions much too quickly to resist.
Affinity, a xenophobe's illusion
glued molecule to molecule to make
a proper and quite practical infusion,
all for the waves and silent sounds that stayed awake.
Yet God himself did put his hex onto the dishes
and they stayed barren as of right and in their prime,
They swam with vigour, full of hope, those little fishes,
to reach the end of their own destiny in time.