Two Toads Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Outside the village, near the road
sat two. One gray, one purple toad.
Said one, your skin is full of warts
and you wear spotted undershorts!

They eyed each other then to see
if they perhaps had H I V.
Soon they decided it was dumb
to groom one's wrinkled skin and bum.

They laughed about the folks who had
no warts and thus were, surely, mad.
Why would you change the way you are?
Each toad is, naturally, a star.

They travelled slowly to New York.
Where they encountered a small stork.
The stork expected I must say
a better quality entrée.

He sent them on their merry way
not knowing that the toads were gay.
The stork resided in Big Apple
attended there each day the Chapel.

And Rev'rend Falwell had decreed
that there was now a pressing need
to rid the world in God's own name
of those who spread their legs in shame.

He was (and that's what saved the two) ,
a little slow, of low I Q.
Meanwhile the toads had hitched a ride
while hanging from the slippery side

of a big Chrysler five-point-seven,
which was the closest thing to heaven
that toads could ever hope to use
though it is something gays would choose.

'twas nearly dusk when they drove in
the driveway with a slight wheelspin.
He stood there in Bermuda shorts
both Texas legs were full of warts.

They did not kiss the President
because it would have, could have meant
that they endorsed his policy
a prospect they could not foresee.