| |
He was the brother of the bride
and gave the pair a royal ride.
They waited for the judge to be
available right after tea.
He'd seal the fate of sis and man
as only an official can.
The brother now went to the room
where earlier the future groom
had let a bit of bladder pain
escape into the courthouse drain.
The rest of them they sat and waited
with breaths that were a fraction bated,
but brother did not soon return,
which now created some concern.
The groom, though not in urgent need
got up to see if he had peed
and would be ready to retreat,
it would be time to go and meet
the judge for this extreme affair,
which he'd been asked to come and share.
Oh, my, there was a true dilemma,
the brother of his sister Emma
was fiddling with his zipper, though
it would demand a real pro.
Quick thinking found a magazine
left by a salivating teen,
Hugh Hefner's Playboy to be placed
where pubic hair the people faced.
The judge, when he officiated
did glance at glossy, overrated
and photos, arguably explicit,
he also noted (couldn't miss it)
the bulging belly of the bride
an obvious profile from the side.
He nodded then, yes, a connection
and, blocking logical reflection,
he married them in record time,
and thought that sex should be a crime
if practiced by the common man,
in fact, he'd try to get a ban
into the legal system soon,
he'd teach those kids a novel tune,
with one more look at this strange party
and this young hippie, (such a smarty) ,
he took the bribe and said Farewell.
I promised them I'd never tell.
Herbert Nehrlich
|
|
User Rating: |
|
--
/10
(0 votes) |
|
|
|
E-mail this poem to e friend