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Is it barbs you send
sharp arrows launched
with deadly aim
and righteous accuracy?
Your words are heard
by ears all used to tunes
from Sound of Music, though
not saber rattling, not at all.
I plead with you, if I still may
to give me words that soothe,
as they pass subtle salivary glands
and drool and bathe in wisdom
like wooly weanlings,
blissfully baring balsam
of soul and sultry sensorium.
Voice vowels echo
the thoughts of consonants,
consummating orgastically
with hot and tingling tongues
until they hatch and metamorphe
into the meaning of our nothingness.
Herbert Nehrlich
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