I wrote a poem once in which I imagined what would have happened to History had somebody disturbed Adolph Hitler’s parents while they were having sex on the occasion when Adolph was conceived. No sex, no Adolph. (I also imagined , in the poem by the way that they tried again the next month and the result was a girl who went on to discover a cure for cancer. ) The following poem is a very rough first draft cobbled together this morning fueled only by one cup of coffee. It may well be the the title of my next book of rhymes. I’ve cut and pasted it from the page because Substack doesn’t format poetry - sadly…
Glad Mr and Mrs Harding weren't interrupted.
Fabulous Mike