gershon hepner Poems

DEFENDING HELEN OF TROY


Though Helen of Troy appears most overamorous
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Shed, shed yourself on me and mine,
and all your essence spill,
I mean the love I’ll drink like wine
and whisky, till I fill
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Orange County, home of cultures
where the rats will sometimes race,
now is also home for vultures
dropping shit on every face,
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WHAT WE LEAVE BEHIND


Love’s not what we accumulate,
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It’s hardly inexplicable
why some should find despicable
the music Felix wrote. When Shaw
declared with Shavian guffaw
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All-nude wrestling in the mud
is what I like, it cools the blood
that boils while watching other shows,
with one exception, Charlie Rose.
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With Persian cats, nobody knows
what they are thinking. It’s the same
with Persian people. Heaven knows
how they intend to play the game
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“It doesn’t have to be a Harley,
a Yamaha would do as well, ”
she told me, for she was a dolly,
and not an angel sent from hell.
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Sir Richard Burton, searching for the sources
both of the Nile and women’s privities,
found tribal slavegirls with amazing forces
that stimulated sex proclivities.
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Dolce & Gabbana hovers
on a billboard. Demonstrators
herded by divine dictators
luxuriate listlessly as lovers
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