Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

The Legend Of Sigmund Freud - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

There once was a doctor named Freud.
He was sure that a man could avoid
any troubles of mind
or the bodily kind
if he listened to Doctor Floyd.

So Sigmund took out his cigar
you could smell the big weed from afar
with a thunderous voice
he explained their sole choice
then he went to the neighbourhood bar.

Doctor Floyd was intoxicated
but he nevertheless still debated
how the uterus did
made to carry a kid
as the organ that had created

All the mental diseases in males
and that all other reasons were tales
one must cut out the womb
to keep man from the tomb
and the females from placing the nails

Thus the man from the land of snow mountains
who made money and hired accountants
had the cognitive magic
of an old coprophagic
and he never discovered no fountains.

So today, we look back to old Freud
when we think of the goons in Detroit
if you really think
that there's help from a shrink
I say Heavens Glamorgatroyd.

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Comments about The Legend Of Sigmund Freud by Herbert Nehrlich

  • (4/19/2005 8:15:00 AM)

    I predict that my newly acquired shadow will follow me like a lapdog, sniffing and howling or perhaps more whinging and wimpering (whimpering) , all the while hoping that soemthing would rub off.
    I am not against being flattered but I would prefer a poetesse or a Sumi wrestler.

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Read poems about / on: magic, money, today, snow

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 19, 2005

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