gershon hepner Poems

Obama is our headman, now,
not a red man, or lowbrow,
but highbrow who pulled ahead
thanks to what is in his head,
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Not every cherry must be sweet,
for when the fruit is sour
it makes dessert a special treat,
and tarts; its cherry power
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DISCOVERY

A special thrill exists, of course,
in finding something new,
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Deeds that you perform have life
like living beings. Every action
is virtually the deed’s midwife
whose job is to prevent retraction
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Chief Justice Roberts hates to split
infinitives, and boldly goes
towards the future without wit,
his path as prim as that prim rose
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Melancholy triangle, I think,
and pistol shoot towards it my revolver,
deeply penetrating bushy vulva,
wondering if I would if it were pink.
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Never blanching at a sword
or hastening to a foreign shore,
Cleo by her accord
died, quite demented. Don’t deplore
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Would Cleopatra have been shocked if
Octavius told her: “Call me Octave”?
If Cleo, known as Cleopatri,
had used a snake that had a battery
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Though certain servants in our raj
leave many traces of the past,
a few may loom in our imag-
ination larger than the cast
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His pen like a burin
engraved words in Turin
whose holiness was holocaustic,
and yet they were trumped
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