gershon hepner Poems

If you want to build a mega-mansion,
try to spoil an area that’s exclusive,
it’s most American to flout expansion:
don’t hesitate because you are abusive
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Was Walt Whitman a Jew?
If not why not? Alas
of all great poets, few
leave Jewish leaves of grass.
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For Eisenhower, lack of moderation
discernible on every front
was typical not for our chosen nation,
but Scandinavia, where the c-t,
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Harassment is wrong, every worker expects
her employer to leave her alone,
not making advances and asking for sex,
maintaining a high moral tone.
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He’s a masterpoet, she’s
a mistress of her rhyming verses;
both of them compose with ease,
while each in the heart rehearses
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I’m living in the psychotropics,
in ambience of Ambien not,
and yet my mind controls the topics
that lovers all consider hot.
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“Mr. Rosenthal, we’re really not
in any courtroom here, ”
to Abe a K.G.B. hotshot
declared. Abe had no fear
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You’re tender, I’m astringent,
few detours to the sweet.
Our love is not contingent
on synchrony of beat,
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English manners, English speech and English foibles
can’t be exported by a bunch of missionaries;
understatement is not codified in bibles,
and will not give an exhibitioner ease.
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She taught me laughing, rolling on the floor,
acronyming it as rofl,
salad days with her I think are more
than merely mayonnaised kartoffel.
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