gershon hepner Poems

Thoughts of afterlife can cause
a person to become reflective.
As soon as you’re beyond the jaws
of death they’ll show a retrospective,
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Not going into that good night as gentle
as the Romanian monk called Gregor Mendel,
Charles Darwin never understood genetics,
but when attacked by bishops, he required
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From Gehinnom to the middle class
they moved, and they became
a memory collectively of mass
destruction, living flame,
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Respect words that are heavy with their past,
accept the darkness through which they give light,
allow the essence of their being to excite
without the pallor with which thought is cast
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When dinosaurs swished their huge tails
they made a louder boom
than, mournfully, the humming whales
beneath the ocean flume,
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Assuaging wrath with anecdotes
was Lincoln’s modus operandi,
until he struck more serious notes,
maturing like a vintage brandy
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Flashing that is synchronized
is not yet an event
in the Olympic Games, though prized
by fireflies, content
...

When the fireflies decide to flash
it’s nitric oxide that provides the fuel
that powers them with their panache
that makes them in the dark so cool.
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See under cocktail cabinets a weasel,
says playwright Harold Pinter,
like naked models standing by an easel
who freeze in deep mid-winter,
...

“Just say the ** lines, ” to Alan
Ayckbourne Harold Pinter said.
The word that’s missing wasn’t Wallon,
or made up out of Pinter’s head.
...