They met, thirty-one, all men
by Herbert Nehrlich
at 'Joe's' who still served beer.
And after hats and coats were off
they chuggelugged 'Hello'.
They looked alike - expensive suits -
and sat around a table that was round;
and each of them had placed his golden pocket watch
thirty had, one had put his glasses down.
He'd felt a smell that made the glass perspire.
10 years had gone since they had had
their beer together here at 'Joe's'.
They laughed about the dormitory girls
that they had laid in back seats and on lawns.
And after two more beers began
to praise the breasts and legs
and how they worked together,
they also mentioned where their wives had come from.
Thirty did; one picked up his glasses
and played with them
and wiped them off.
Then it was midnight.
They all stood up
pronounced the words
their Latin teacher once had taught them:
'SIC TRANSIT GLORIA MUNDI '.
Thirty did and then set down with empty glasses.
Right after this the ONE stood up
and paid his bill and took his coat and hat.
And thirty men were quiet.
And suddenly he took his hands
that had so firmly shut his mouth away
and said, he wished them beards
and much more belly
and much less hair
and 100 kids of much the same.
And, leaving, added that they should have kept their hats on
during the procedure.
And thirty men looked at their golden pocket watches,
and thirty started getting back their smiles.
And all discovered that he had forgotten here his glasses.
And when they started to recall about him
one took out a box of afterhshaving powder,
and used it on the smell that had not left with him.
So one picked up his glasses for
an illustration of the story.
And thirty men discovered that the glasses did not fit
and that the glass was broken.