Sarah P. Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

It's said that following three days at most
the fish will smell inside the nose of any host.
And age when caught determines the decay
I'd say the only hope now is to really pray.

While lipstick on a pig may sway some silly fools,
a snout inside the trough comes up to us and drools.

I ask you, friend, why wear the lipstick then
if not to signal, flaunt your stuff to men?
But, all the same, those books do really scare
some talk of bosoms, even nipples and a skin so bare.
Old Bill and Chaucer, swine they surely were at heart,
it takes a lipstick pig to tell the world what's art!

God came one night and rested by her feathered bed
and she wrote in the morning what her God had said:
'You are the chosen race, I took it from the Krauts,
I let you visit me in outer space, your astronauts
who carried bibles up inside their flying ships
and spoke of righteousness through highly stiffened lips.

I told them as I tell you now, dear Gov,
it is my wish that you went out to spread my love
in places like Iraq, Afghanistan and more,
you did not go there to make peace or to explore.

Oh no, you took my mission into desert fields of oil
and brought your war machine again up to the proper boil.
I gave you bodybags and chaplains for the cause
each casualty may be a reason for a prayer pause.

Make no mistake though, you are doing my own work
that's why that little guy, who's nothing but a jerk
will be deleted like a caribou out in the wild,
sleep well, dear Sarah, there will be another child
to come as blessing to you soon, a boy at that,
a future general, to wear the Yankee Hat.