gershon hepner Poems

“Please God, buy me a Mercedes! ”
That’s the prayer that’s often heard
from penurious, lovely ladies,
and it’s surely not absurd.
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I'm published, but I fear my words
are stillborn and have perished,
inspiring people less than turds
a mad dog might have cherished.
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As I sit here and think of you,
I wonder whether you do, too,
but if you don’t, it doesn’t matter,
for though you’re not I hear your chatter
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Like the Pisa Tower leaning,
I hope to never hit the ground
while unprotected by the meaning-
less attempts I make to seem profound.
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At Barnard the commencement speech to the young misses
by Meryl Streep was all about the sort of kisses
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With shelflife of a pint of milk
UN resolutions sour,
and ultimately serve to bilk
the State of Israel of its power.
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Finding is a mere refinding;
memory brings mere reminding.
Visions and epiphanies,
harmonies, antiphonies,
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I don’t know what gives matter mass
or what’s the cause of gravity.
On quarks and leptons I must pass,
a mystery, like McCavity,
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Dark is the matter that surrounds
our galaxy, and black
the holes that silence distant sounds
which send no echoes back
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Arriving for his father’s funeral hatless
Edward landed, looking far from square,
said Betjeman. Though I am rarely catless,
my head, like Edward’s, is quite often bare.
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