Shower Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

There was only a note
on the living room door,
and in lipgloss she wrote
'I can't take it no more.'

I had seen it all written
on the dimly-lit wall,
if I hadn't been smitten
in the 'Y''s shower stall

by Roberta's black beauty
and the curly, coarse hair,
though at first she was snooty
wondered how I could dare.

I'd forgotten my glasses
in the changing room locker,
and when players and lasses,
after hours of soccer

rushed to gain a quick place
I had seen only blurs,
where in neat lower case
it spelled 'his' and then 'hers'.

Being legally blind
I had grabbed the first door,
not expecting to find
naked beauty and more.

Since the door's automatic
it swung shut in a blink,
with my spirit ecstatic
I just flashed her a wink.

'I'm so sorry', I mumbled
'and my eyesight is poor,
or I wouldn't have bumbled
into THIS place, for sure.'

'If your eyes cannot see,
you must use your two hands,
it's the same thing with me.'
And as manner demands

I most quickly now stripped
grabbed the soap and began
while my beating heart skipped,
rubbing foam on her tan.

I will spare you details
but the bell rang to wake,
and a dream seldom fails,
is it real or fake?

So, not guilty, I think
though there still is that note.
It began with a wink
and 'Godd-bye''s what she wrote.