gershon hepner Poems

The cognitive inferences processed by senses,
unconscious as clocks to the notion of tenses,
create the perceptions embraced by the mind,
reliable timepiece we don’t need to wind,
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The laws of kings can’t be amended.

This was the rule in Persia when
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It isn’t banks that fail in Yonkers
that drive me nowadays quite bonkers;
I live too far away from there
about these banks to really care.
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We need to draw a moral line,
and give up looking for another
hopefully more caring mother
and father, as did Coraline.
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Good food and wine produce a synergy
ideal especially for dinner ge-
niality, for I have got a hunch
the synergy is not ideal for lunch,
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Eternity bores Sylvia Plath: she never
wants to get there. All the gods know, she
declares, is destinations. Very clever,
but hearing about being bored bores me,
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Privacy can suffocate
but company can make me wince,
so when I want to celebrate
I try politely to dropp hints
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Alive enough to spawn and die
we are like salmon without gills,
and breathe our last beneath a sky
polluted by satanic mills.
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Images imagined and recalled
rain on the masterpoet’s mind like mist
that lubricates the lips that have enthralled
him in the past, but he has never kissed.
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Dependence leads to emulation,
but sadly creativity
demands thereafter separation,
with hypersensitivity
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