What Is It? Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

What Is It?

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Dungbeetles eat it.
It fertilises gardens.
Smells to high heaven.

Worlds would not exist
without the putrid droppings
all done in private.

Which means that goodness
might be dependent on it
can't live without it.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Herbert Nehrlich1 02 December 2005

She started it! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! H

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Herbert Nehrlich1 01 December 2005

I would whisper only sweet somethings into your ears (into the left that way the right hemisphere would believe it) , never the solution of this puzzle. Merde he said. Best H

0 0 Reply
Raynette Eitel 01 December 2005

I give up, Herbert. Whisper it in my ears. Raynette

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