An Old Fart Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
An Old Fart
Driving my fancy automobile,
down a Nevada country road,
asking myself 'how do you feel'
running over a sleepy toad.
Shadows coming, soon it's dark,
I'm just an old fart from the caravan park.
Got the radio cranked up high,
desert wind in my wild looking hair,
now I wonder whether she'd cry
I really don't think that she could care.
When I left the mongrel did bark
I'm just an old fart from the caravan park.
Power's great in this old caddy,
top is down, beer on the seat,
she would call me 'sugardaddy'
when I kissed her sweaty feet.
Once as happy as a lark
I'm just an old fart from the caravan park.
Things deteriorated, sadly,
sex ain't what it used to be
and she took it rather badly
when I wanted to be free.
Called me then a friggin' shark
I'm just an old fart in a caravan park.
I am going west young man.
Destination big adventure
get a California tan
on the beach, take out the denture,
night cap is straight Cutty Sark
I'm just an old fart, left the caravan park.
Got to the beach, called Malibu.
Settled right near a stern looking sign,
lady comes out, saying 'How do you do',
would you come share some strawberry wine?
I look at her closely, the contrast is stark,
I'm just an old fart, left the caravan park.
So the beauty is ancient with plenty of gray,
but she serves with the wine a great raznichee.
In a while she leans over and asks me to stay,
'my man is away, with the boys in DC
he spends half the year, as a government narc'...
I was once an old fart in a caravan park.
For that lovely lady out west, named Gyps.
Oh Thanks Herbie, that was lovely. Made me smile and laugh. I will read it ot to the gal's in the office on Monday. Loved the image of the top down and beer on the seat. Used to have a Triamph Herald convertable (in UK) and loved having the top down with beer on the sear and a picnic strapped to the rac on the back. Lovely feel good poem, just as I like them. Gyp's xx
Which lovely lady? ? You were certainly 'touring' here! It's funny, it's wild, it's free...the magic combination! ! Well done, excellent story, and warm nights read beteen the lines! . Of course! ! Great! xxElysabeth
Carter I have asked you nicely to stay away from my poems. I am not in the least interested in what you think about them. I will ask administration to stop you from commenting. If you do not and administration will not I will see you in court. Your accusation of plagiarism warrants a verdict that will cost you a lot of money. I am interested in peace on this site, if you are not I will make sure you will remember your mistakes. H
* For our American cousins and spellcheckers, carburettors are carburetors, the British ones have one more letter and one less gene. H
Resident spouse remembers her Triumph Spitfire of 1970. Temperamental, British unreliability (always electrical and carburettor* surprises) but fun when it 'blasted'. Hx A cad? Allan you must write a poem about that. Was he sad, mad or glad....this cad...... H
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 8:21:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
VERY GOOD HERBERT THE ENGLISH WILL LOVE THIS ONE THEY USED TO SAY HE IS A CAD, BUT FART IS JUST AS GOOD AND IT HAS FOUR LETTERS Warm regards AJS