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A trusted friend remarked today
that he would never ever look again
at sensuality through that lascivious eye,
which, to the chastity of my own mind
was quite unknown to me, a reason then
to delve into the subject with some science.
The magnifying glass was found at last,
it showed (eventually) the little fellow's bod,
but try and try again, much as I might
and did desire to uncover this strange eye,
all efforts were to no avail, there was a hump,
or should we call it ridge, a hue of blue,
and like a Loden coat a drape of flaccid skin
was keeping civil temperatures, for sure, within.
But that was all, there was no eye, so should I cry?
Herbert Nehrlich
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