Who Pays Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

The impotents and pitiful they walked in single file
and sucked the perspiration off the sly bibliophile.
Brown uniforms and swastikas now rowing 'cross the Nile
we simply must take charge of them and holler our Sieg Heil.

No novel intipiculum can ever pay my way,
man has, in his basilicum, found ample time to pray.
Throws values to silicium, where everyone is gay.
Ye Gods have lost the plot my friend, the Devil wants to play.