Mrs. Hodmenivascarhelicutashepuszta - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
She was old. Going on 97.
Said she couldn't, for reasons unknown
sleep the night through. Been like that
for yonks, but worse now since the democrats
those money spenders and antisocials,
elements of the devil incarnate
have taken over the country, lock stock and barrel.
Psyllium to be regular, visine for clear eyes,
nose drops and vaginal hormone cream
as well as good old Lipitor, which was, after all,
the catch all and cure all, would it not, really
it does, reduce that Bogeyman, Cholesterol,
killer of arteries, sex and brain power, so to speak
yes, the doctor knows, and ain't I the lucky one.
Born in a Hungary that was still the Austrian Empire,
not any of this Hodmenivasar and Bud-pescht crowd,
she was a proud one, looked years younger, too
but she was beautiful, really, in so many ways,
what was she, me wondering, like in those days,
and now she needed that dam Psyllium seed,
or the husks to be happy after brekkie, yeah,
it was part of life, this regularity and it was,
Doc made a big deal of it, a big deal.
Things needed to come out, in solid form,
not as auditory enjoyment or disturbances,
no, one had to ingest, digest and divest oneself
of these remnants of a modern day diet,
never mind what they did in Linz or Vienna,
they did, after all eat all those Gugelhupfen and,
often enough, the cream cakes and tortes,
gee, the memory of one trip does it, no doubt,
but this is the West, immaculate Medicine,
high tech for you failures and weak in character,
just please remember, bring your money and be silent.
Then she said, out of the blue, to me, her doctor of,
yes it is true and hurtful, thirty-three years and more,
that she felt like being in a room, filled of the very people,
who are of no interest or consequence for her,
it was a room so crowded with folks that, logically,
there was pushing and shoving and heavy breathing,
also a lot of this thing called diaphoresis, happening.
And she felt, no knew, no was utterly certain that
she needed to, wanted to, had to and loved to
push back harder and with at least twice the force,
incoming and modern though it was and would remain.
Perhaps the Psyllium was to blame, she ventured,
it has stopped these red-faced public mini-concerts,
but what if it did prolong her life, pray tell, could it be?
Would God be ready for her, want her now, at this point, '
this blink in time or was prematurity the mother of what?
Re-assurance was the one thing that was required here,
long dead Professor had taught, no person does exist,
but a number, tell them what it is that overcomes
and soothes ears that have been challenged by much time
you must take pills to show superior, long-lived outcome
and if it is just one remedial agent now, that will fulfil
and guarantee a long survival,
you take your Psyllium for the one and only reason.
Your God insists that you, when all your days have passed
you do appear at Pearly Gates in shoulder season
and have your luggage and your BMI in check
there are no fatsos inside Heaven, none at all.
Comments about Mrs. Hodmenivascarhelicutashepuszta by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl