The Watcher Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I watch as you dance
with that Brylcreem Man.
It is not just a glance
soon it WILL hit the fan.

You, the one with the dimples
and the ravishing hips,
he, his face full of pimples,
you with lovely red lips.

He, the peacock Juan,
you the Ballerina.
He is now coming on,
I will rip out his wiener.

I am only just twenty,
but I know about life.
With experience aplenty,
and I carry a knife.

Did I go 'round the bend
at the moment he kissed her?
No, he was my best friend
and the girl was my sister.