gershon hepner Poems

The universe is scripture of the Zen,
and while our inner feelings come and go,
its feelings form an archipelago
where on an island prison live most men.
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The universe is scripture of the Zen,
and while our inner feelings come and go,
its feelings form an archipelago
where on an island prison live most men.
...

Somewhere all explanations come
to an end, said Wittgenstein,
which may make you seem rather dumb,
since lack of them may undermine
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He said the great composer had confused
heroism with howlings:
Schubert,1819, thus abused,
like villains of Ms. Rowling’s,
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I’d like to take you to the isle
where I belong,
the region where I like to while
my time in song,
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“Oh, don’t you feel my leg, ” she said,
she wanted me to beg.
I wasn’t asking from her head,
so I decided I would egg
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The threads that join us sometimes met-
amorphose into chains, the sort
of metamorphosis we ought
to think of every time we let
...

Once we’ve finished skinning our own skunk
with poetic words with which we’re drunk
and find that there is little more to tell
about the miserable, immortal smell
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Poetic lovers who do not achieve
the consummation of poetic bliss
with cyber-correspondence may believe
that consummation comes not from a kiss,
...

October is where bears all go to die,
and where the people who are long get harried;
November is where the bulls all find a high
in markets where the longs and shorts get married.
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