Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

The End Of The Four Deceivers - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Four men, all strangers sat and drank
hot cider near a river's bank.
There was, in leather, with goatee
a skinny lad called H I V.

Right next sat, in gray naugahide
Sir Benji Silicofluoride.
While munching on a casserole,
a fatso named Cholesterol
was now engaged in dialogue
with what appeared to be a rogue
the name tag read Miss C O Two
her overalls smelled of old pooh.

The chef of the establishment
was soon in a predicament,
it seemed that they were in a battle
Miss C O Two was shouting 'cattle',

and then proceeded to explain
how gods had fought so long in vain,
these creatures burped and fouled the air
pretended to be unaware
that all around the heat was on.

And some maintained it was a con,
the earth, she said would get so hot
that cities, towns and lakes would not
survive to shelter and support......
Life here on earth would be cut short.

'I beg your pardon, I am Ben
a quintessential halogen,
solutions will not come by chance
one needs to carry out smart plans,
if all the folks would just ingest
the toxic substance I suggest
we'd be immune to cavities
and ticks, malaria and fleas.'

'Yes', said Miss C O Two, 'that's right
I well remember the big fight,
the people did not warm to it,
the greenies called it deadly shit
but through the grace of politicians
we, in the end, made smart decisions.
Uranium is a friend of mine
it ages slower than good wine.'

The fellow who was quite obese
now spoke, 'my colleagues, if you please
I am, as some of you may know
the stuff that likes to stick and grow
inside the bloody arteries
like old and rotten Gouda cheese.'

They paused to guzzle some more cider
when, from the table top a spider
climbed up and hung from the goatee
of gloomy Mr. H I V.

As soon as HIV detected
he coughed and spat, had him infected,
the spider shrivelled and then fell
was whisked away straight into Hell.

The owner of the Country Inn
had taken off his face the grin
that had appeared due to the money
that always came when it was sunny.

These guests though, pardon please my French,
had brought along a certain stench.
And missing were the usual smiles
of folks devoid of painful piles.

The man had listened to their words
at first assumed that they were nerds,
who had, to lift their stoic moods
come here to eat some country foods.

He ventured over to the table
where Ben was telling a new fable
'and how, if I may ask of you
was food and service and the brew,
the latter is my own creation,
deserving of a small ovation
I say, with tongue in toothless cheek
though I am open to critique.'

A cloud descended right this minute
and all of them were trapped within it,
it was the Devil, it was clear
and chef and owner froze in fear.

The four who had been wining, dining
looked up and saw the jetblack lining
now oozing from a lifeless sky.
The Devil whispered 'time to die.'

And, on command, Miss C O Two
addressed the rest of this mad crew,
she waited patiently until
Sir Ben was ready for the kill.

By now the fatso wasn't able
he'd fallen down beneath the table
so it was up to H I V,
the Devil's clever appointee,
to snuff the life of all for good
they all accepted that he could.

Out of the inn one of the maids,
who had been rumoured to have Aids,
approached the gang and waved a hand:
'I am the Power, I demand
that all of you who are deceivers
go scramble to the creek where beavers
will skin you and prepare your flesh
for spawning salmon, they like fresh
and slightly off and smelly feed
it is the end for you, indeed.'

The Devil's face was white like chalk,
he could not bring himself to talk.
But in the presence of this mother
he'd flee and find himself another,
more easygoing target soon.

He grabbed his fossil-tarred harpoon
and kicked his hoof, then up he was
accompanied by slight applause.

Now Mother Nature's Adelaide
commenced her task and quickly made
short shrift of all the crooked trash,
Miss C O Two predicted ash
to be the end of Mother Earth,
though it was clear that a new birth
had happened and arisen here
which would eliminate all fear
and special interests who would prey
upon the souls they could betray.

No stones were ever placed to show
that four small devils did forego
the right to live due to the fact
that there was something that they lacked.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 22, 2011

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